The Long Way Home
by TheHeartOfLife
Summary: There was a girl. She loved a boy. And then she lost it all. Will her journey back to the place where it all began and ended light the path for forgiveness, or will it swallow her whole? A story about friendship, love and the true meaning of coming home.
1. Prologue: Gold Dust

**This story is a continuation of my Indies one-shot called The Corner of Your Heart. If you haven't read it, take a trip to my profile after you read the prologue - the link is there. It's not imperative that you read it to understand this, but it does provide a bit more back-story. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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They faced off on the playground, the diminutive little boy and the girl whose hair shone like liquid gold underneath the sun.

She appraised him with cool blue eyes, her gaze finally stopping at the top of his head. She sniffed and said, "Your head looks like it's on fire."

His hand flew to his hair and he flattened his palms over it, trying hard to hide it from her.

"You're stupid!" he shouted, his voice infused with all the passion that his five-year-old heart could muster. He watched in fascination as the girl's nostrils flared and her eyes grew large. She looked a little bit like a monster he had read about in one of his new books last night.

"_You're_ stupid!" she bellowed. "And you have cooties!"

"I do not!"

"Do too!"

"Edward, Rosalie, please use your inside voices," Mrs. Cross called from the swings.

"But we're _outside_," Rosalie responded loudly, hands on hips.

Edward secretly agreed, but she'd just accused him of having cooties so he smiled widely as Mrs. Cross marched over and ushered the girl inside, ending her recess early. She glared back at him the whole way.

After school, Edward shuffled out the front doors with the other students to meet his mom. He didn't see the extended foot of an older boy until he had already tripped over it. His palms stung painfully as they hit the sidewalk, his backpack flying up and hitting him square on the back of the head. His eyes stung, too, and he blinked profusely. He hauled himself up, dusting off his dirty hands on his Spiderman t-shirt. A hot, fat tear rolled down his cheek and he angrily wiped it away.

The older boy was laughing at him, pointing his finger and clutching his stomach. Edward furrowed his brow fiercely, trying to stave off the ensuing tears but they just kept coming. He re-adjusted his backpack and started to walk away, his breath coming out in little gasps.

It was the sound that stopped him, a metallic _clank_ followed by a pained howl. He looked back over his shoulder and saw Rosalie, Care Bears lunch box in hand, glaring at the older boy. He was clutching his head, staring down at her like she was crazy. Edward thought she might be.

"Pick on someone your own size, stupid!" Rosalie shouted. She turned to Edward. This time she didn't glare at him. She didn't look so much like a monster anymore. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he whispered, watching the boy slink away, still rubbing his head.

"Well, you need to stick up for yourself, you know," she said matter-of-factly.

"Okay." He thought it was better to just agree with her. She seemed to know what she was talking about.

She squinted at him for a minute before nodding her head. "You want to be friends?"

"You said I had cooties."

She rolled her eyes. "_All _boys have cooties. I'll still be your friend."

He shrugged, placated enough. He probably needed a friend, seeing as how he didn't have any. "Okay."

"That means that I'll always be there for you when you need me," she told him. "Like if you're sad or someone's beating you up or something. My mom told me that real friends are forever." She looked at him closely. "You can be my real friend if you want."

"That sounds fine," he said slowly. He liked the idea of a real friend.

"Okay, well, see you later," she said, skipping away from him.

"Bye," he replied, starting to walk towards the line of cars parked by the curb. His mom's silver car glinted in the sunlight as it pulled up at the end of the line.

"Hey, Edward?"

He turned around to face Rosalie. "Yeah?"

"You might not have cooties, you know," she conceded and then tilted her head thoughtfully. "But your head still looks like it's on fire."

She left Edward standing there, mouth slightly agape, until he heard his name being called.

He hopped into the car, his hands firmly woven through his hair, and collected a kiss from his mom. He thought of the bossy girl with the loud voice as they pulled out of the parking lot. He contemplated his first day of kindergarten, how he had started with no friends and ended up with one real friend, which seemed to him the best kind of all. One real friend was probably worth ten regular ones.

With that thought, a grin spread across his face and his hands drifted from his head.

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**A/N: A couple of housekeeping items. I'll try to be succinct:**

**First on the list - this would not be possible without hmonster4. I can't even call her my beta…she's more like a shining beacon of light on a dark and stormy night in the middle of an angry sea (are you horking yet?). You are amazing and yes, I'm a dork. Thank you for letting me borrow 12/28 :)  
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**Secondly - LightStarDusting, LoreliD, AccioBourbon and Daisy3853 have all provided a ton of support –encouraging comments and kind words, *****pat*s and Tommett porn****. I couldn't ask for more (well, I could but…). Thank you all so, so much. **

**And finally, it's my intention to update this on a weekly basis, so barring any catastrophes I'll have a new chapter up every Monday. **

**Yep, I failed at the succinct. Sorry! **


	2. Ch 1: The Heart of the Matter

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

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**_**20 years later **_

Phone calls in the middle of the night almost always deliver bad news. This is expected. No one ever calls at 2:53 AM just to say hello (unless, of course, they're drunk). No, the middle of the night phone call is for accidents. It's for death. It's for heartbreak.

You hear the shrill ring. It breaks into the silence of the night and you bolt up in bed, fumbling for the phone while your heart beats out of your chest. Your hands are shaking as you press the innocuous little 'send' key because your body knows already, even before your brain has a chance to warm up and begin imagining the scenarios, that this is going to be bad. That this might be the worst night of your life.

But it's the phone calls that come in the middle of the day that are truly devastating. Calls at 4:13 in the afternoon are supposed to be mundane. Bad news isn't delivered during regular business hours. So it doesn't even cross your mind as you reach for the phone. You're blindsided when it happens. You have no chance to prepare for it, to understand what the person on the other end of the line is saying when they tell you something that changes your life.

I've been through both, the expected and the not. In the end neither is better or worse. They will both turn your world upside down. It's just that the late-night calls give you a second to steel yourself.

I was expecting this phone call, the one that set all of it in motion. I knew that it would happen eventually; it was inevitable. But it was theoretical in my mind, a hazy future that I'd shoved to the back, right next to a dusty mental tutorial on how to cook a Thanksgiving turkey. It was information of no particular use to me right now, but nonetheless something I knew I might need in the future.

Well, apparently _this_ was the future.

It was Monday afternoon and I was gazing out the window of my office at the San Francisco skyline, my chin resting in the palm of my hand. My foot bobbed erratically as my pump held on for dear life. I was restless, unfocused. I told myself that it was just a case of the Mondays, a weekly affliction for me, that I was mourning the loss of the weekend.

But what did I have to mourn? That I sat in my small studio apartment the entire time, alternating between pacing the length of the single room I inhabited (which took an impressive seventeen seconds, back and forth) and watching rom coms starring Meg Ryan? That the highlight of those two days was talking to Alice without being interrupted by Jasper needing to know where his wallet or the laptop cord or maybe his _balls_ were? That man was constantly losing things, and usually when Alice was on the phone with me. Jasper was mostly self-sufficient but when it came to keeping tabs on his personal effects? Completely hopeless.

In the scheme of things, this weekend had been a bust. My social life was nothing to sneeze at, but as the days and months of this past year had gone by, I found myself making excuses not to go out. When I did, I counted down the minutes until I could get home. I felt strangely out of place, like I was faking it, and I just didn't have the patience for that anymore. I couldn't imagine that I'd been very good company lately, either. My friends, all from work, still included me in their plans but I was finding that my refusals were becoming more frequent. That restless feeling was seeping into every aspect of my life and it had only intensified after I got off the phone with Alice yesterday. Her voice had never sounded so far away. I constantly missed her, sometimes so much that it literally hurt, but this was something else. This was a feeling rooted deep in my gut.

As always, there was the whisper of an all-too-familiar name, but I clenched my jaw and forced it away. I didn't want to think about that. About him.

I narrowed my eyes at the cloudless sky and silently willed it to fill with dark clouds to better match my mood. I still held onto the childish belief that if I really wanted something to happen, it would. But it was September, the beginning of our abbreviated summer in the city, and so the sky remained stubbornly blue. Apparently the weather didn't give a shit about Rosalie Hale.

With a sigh, I turned back to my computer screen, my eyes darting immediately down to the tiny numbers in the corner – 4:13. Another sigh escaped, this one louder and with greater irritation. The clock seemed to be moving backwards. I could have sworn it was 4:45 the last time I looked.

The phone rang. I looked at it eagerly, grateful for a distraction. Alice's number flashed across the screen and I snatched up the receiver.

"…think they're over by the dining room table on the hutch," she was saying. There was a rustle and then her voice was clear, questioning. "Rose?"

"What'd he lose this time?" I asked, discarding my pump with a small flick of my toes.

"Keys. It's always the keys."

"It's nice to know some things never change."

She cleared her throat, staying suspiciously silent. My eyes narrowed at the sky again but they were unseeing, focused instead on the deep timbre of Jasper's hushed voice. I could hear a telltale jingle.

"Alice?"

"Yeah, um, hold on. I'm helping Jasper find the keys real quick."

She was lying to me. Even if I hadn't heard the keys I would have known. Her voice shook minutely, as if it were rebelling against the false words coming out of her mouth. No one else would notice that, the slight tremor, but I wasn't anyone else and I knew something was wrong.

"Tell him to check his hand."

There was more silence, this time ominous, and then another hushed whisper followed by a hissed, "Just _tell _her."

"Tell me _what_?" I snapped, losing my patience.

"Rosalie…"

"If you can't spit it out, put Jasper on the phone," I sighed. He never had trouble telling me things, whether they were solicited or not. I opened my top drawer, pulling out a handheld mirror with my free hand. Might as well do a face check while I was waiting for Alice to tell me she was pregnant or that Jasper _finally_ popped the question or -

"Edward and Bella are getting married."

It was oddly fascinating watching all of the blood drain from my face, my mouth go from slightly puckered in appraisal to utterly slack in shock, to observe the dilating of my eyes, wide and disbelieving. My reflection started to tremble and I realized that it was my hands that were shaking, not the rest of me. My body was still, unmoving. I was frozen, completely solidified and weighed down. My heart had stopped beating altogether. I didn't need that part right now, anyway, did I? It was better if it didn't work.

The mirror landed on my desk with a loud _crack_ but it didn't break. How was that possible? I stared down at it in confusion. I focused on the unblemished surface of it because I couldn't concentrate on anything else. Alice was quiet on the other end, her steady breathing the only sound in the heavy silence.

"When?" I finally whispered.

A long exhalation of breath now. My palm was pressed against the arm of my chair, my fingers curled around it so fiercely that my skin stretched white over my knuckles. I was afraid to let go, sure that I would just liquefy into the ground if I didn't hold on to something, anything.

"When, Alice?" I repeated.

"Saturday. Rosalie - "

I hung up the phone. My hands flew to my face and I pressed my fingers against my eyes until I saw stars. I wanted infinite blackness, but instead I got bursts of light.

I didn't understand. It made no sense. Or maybe it made too much sense and I just couldn't grasp it. They had been dating for the better part of a decade. They were going to get married someday. I knew that.

But someday was this fucking Saturday and I'd been living my life completely unaware. I'd been watching _Sleepless in Seattle _on Saturday and they had been engaged. I'd picked up my dry cleaning last Thursday and he had called her _fiancée _for the hundredth – or maybe the thousandth – time. There had surely been congratulatory phone calls, celebratory dinners, and all the while I had been down here. Everything had changed and no one told me. No one said a _word_.

I felt a familiar burning behind my eyelids and I pressed down harder, willing another sensation to replace it. I wanted the physical pain, not the emotional. The former would hurt and then fade. The latter would fester. It would scar.

Somewhere in my fogged brain I could hear a phone ringing. My phone. I ignored it, knowing it would be Alice. She was probably freaking out, her voice at decibels only a dog could hear as she desperately tried to reach me. For some reason, this struck me as hilarious but I squelched the urge to burst into hysterical laughter. Hysterical laughter was the close cousin of hysterical sobbing and I couldn't. I wouldn't.

I let my fingers slide down from my still-closed eyes, pressing against my cheeks so that my lips puffed out. I took a deep breath in. Let a deep breath out. I did it again. I did it until I felt in control of my body again. God knows that was the only thing I had a chance of controlling. Everything else seemed to be spiraling just out of my reach.

The phone rang again and I set my shoulders back before leaning forward and carefully picked up the receiver.

She was already talking. I couldn't stop one corner of my mouth from pulling up slightly. "…get a hold of her, Jasper! What was I – Rosalie? Hello?"

"Yes, Alice," I sighed.

"Oh, thank God. I've called you four times!" There was a rustling and a quick beep and then she was back on the line. "No, five. Are you okay?"

"I had another call, sorry."

"Rose…"

She paused uncertainly. She knew I was lying. I knew she knew I was lying, but she wouldn't call me on it and I wasn't going to admit anything. It was taking everything I had in me not to break down in my office.

Still, I couldn't help the next thing that came out of my mouth.

"Can I ask you a question?"

She breathed out in one long _whoosh_. "Yes. Of course."

"Why would you call me at work and tell me this?" I asked, hating the way my voice shook. The stinging in my eyes returned and I impatiently pressed against them again, leaning my elbow on my desk. My other hand choked the handle of the phone.

I had to know. Because didn't she know me at all? Didn't she understand how this would affect me? She had been there last winter when everything happened, had seen me break down and dissolve, had seen the destruction caused at both my and Edward's hands. It was yet another thing I didn't understand, her timing, the timing of all of this.

I waited breathlessly for her answer. I wanted to know that she was still on my side, that at least I still had her, even if everything else was gone.

"Because I've been holding it in for too long," she replied, her voice wavering and thick. "I've made this phone call so many times and hung up or said something else instead of what I really wanted to say. What I really _needed_ to say. And I looked at the clock just now and I thought, if I don't tell her right now, if I don't give her the opportunity to get on a plane and get up here, I'll regret it for the rest of my life." There was a pause as she tried to gather her emotions. I could hear a telltale sniffle and I covered my eyes with my hand, staving off the pool gathering behind my closed lids. "I never wanted to hurt you, Rosalie. Please believe that. I'm trying to make it right."

I swallowed against the knot in my throat, opening my mouth and then closing it again. I wanted to say it was okay. I wanted to tell her that I understood, that I forgave her for dumping this on me at such an inopportune time. But instead I said, "It's not up to you to make it right. It shouldn't be you telling me this news."

"I know that. He knows that, too, and I think if I hadn't done it, he would have. Despite what happened between you two, he needs you there. He's realizing that."

Was he? I highly doubted that, all things considered.

"When did they get engaged?" I tried to sound apathetic but it just came out strained, stifled.

"About five months ago."

"Jesus. Is she pregnant or something?" _Please don't let it be that_, I thought. _One thing at a time._

"No, nothing like that. They're having it at Edward's parents' house, so there wasn't a wait for the venue, obviously." She laughed nervously. "Um, and Bella wanted to do it before the weather got bad. It's going to be outside. It's actually going to be really pretty, you know, and very simple. I talked her into doing rose petals along the aisle and she's letting me do her hair - "

"Too much."

It was all I could get out. I was imagining it all as she spoke - Bella in a white gown that showed off her alabaster skin, Edward at the end of the aisle in a tuxedo, his bow tie slightly askew because he didn't know how to tie one to save his life. I had been his designated tie-knotter, even after Bella. It was a gift, my ability to perfectly knot ties and bow ties.

I could see him looking at her, watching her as she drifted toward him. I could plainly see the look in his eyes, the effervescent happiness. It would be the same look I'd seen so many times, directed from him to her, only magnified by the knowledge that he was keeping her forever. That she was claiming him for good.

"Sorry, I'm sorry," Alice babbled, breaking me out of my thoughts. A single tear trailed down my cheek and I brushed it away angrily. "Rosalie, please talk to me."

"I don't know what you want me to say," I said. My voice sounded cold even to me, and I bit my lip, reining myself in. Despite her horrendous timing and the fact that she – or _someone_, for God's sake– should have told me this five months ago, she was my best friend and I could tell she was devastated. My heart squeezed painfully.

"Are you mad?" she said, so quietly that I had to lean into the receiver to hear her.

Numb. I was numb. "No, I'm not mad. I mean, your timing seriously sucks, but I appreciate you telling me since it seems no one else was going to."

"Are you coming?"

My answer came swiftly off my tongue before I could even fully process her question. "No."

"Rosalie - "

"Alice, come on. What do you expect me to say? Edward and I ended our friendship on pretty shitty terms and then he can't even be bothered to tell me he's getting married. Why would I come to a wedding I've not even been invited to? I'm not wanted there."

"That's not true," she argued. "I know he wants you there –"

"Did he say that?" I challenged. God, it was so pathetic how much I wanted her to say yes.

"No," she conceded. "Not outright. But I know he does. We _all _do."

I huffed, distractedly untangling the phone cord.

"Listen, just think about it. Don't say yes or no yet."

I shook my head. "I'm not going to change my mind."

She pushed forward as if I hadn't spoken. "And even if you don't come up for him, maybe you can for me? For the rest of us that miss you?"

"Alice, _please_," I snapped, my voice breaking. The last thing I needed was a reminder of all of the things, all of the people, I was missing out on.

She must have recognized the fracture in my voice as the furthest she could push without completely undoing me, because she was quiet for a moment while I composed myself.

"Will you call me later? Just so I know you're okay?" Her voice was small and apologetic.

"I – I don't know. Yes. Maybe."

"I'm sorry." They were just two words, but they held so many meanings. She was sorry for being the bearer of this news and of the way it hurt me. Sorry for the way things had disintegrated between Edward and me. I knew she was sorry that I was so far away, in so many ways. She was sorry for her and for me and I hated that it hurt her so much to hurt _me_.

"Okay," I said, knowing that made no sense.

Still, she got it. She always did. "Love you, Rose."

"You, too."

I hung up the phone before she had the chance to say good-bye. I didn't want to hear that word right now. It was a reminder of too many events that had passed just beyond that utterance, too many endings.

I let my body go limp as I stared out the window vacantly.

Edward was getting married on Saturday. _This_ Saturday. 120 hours from now, maybe even less, he would pledge his devotion to Bella in front of all of the people that mattered to them. Apparently I wasn't one of those people. Both my heart and chin trembled at that and I looked out toward the waning light. At least if someone walked in, I could blame my tears on the sun.

"Hey."

My heart flew into my throat and I turned toward the door. "Jesus, Garrett, you scared me!"

Garrett stood in the doorway, hands stuffed in his pockets and eyebrow cocked. He was well pressed as always, tall and slim in dark slacks and a dress shirt. The overhead lights glinted off his sandy hair and also off the holographic Hannah Montana sticker at the bottom of his striped tie. His daughters, Heidi and Charlotte, loved to secretly decorate him and Kate didn't always catch them. Last week he'd walked around with one of those Jonas guys stuck to his ass for half the day before someone pointed it out.

"Sorry, I forgot the rules – knock twice, clear my throat."

I snorted delicately, sitting straighter in my chair and smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle out of my blouse. My eyes were still watering a bit. Somehow I didn't think Garrett would buy the sun excuse. "I said knock _or _clear your throat. You're like a goddamn ninja."

He grinned. "Yeah, your goddamn ninja _boss_. Technically, this office belongs to me."

I raised my eyebrow at him and he raised his back in silent acknowledgement. We both knew that wasn't true. Forget our offices, our _asses_ belonged to Carmen Paz, the owner of the small but growing Paz Cosmetics, of which we were both planners for. Well, technically I was the _assistant_ planner, but I tended to mentally drop that part of my title. It was only a matter of time.

Garrett stood in the doorway for a few silent beats, just looking at me.

"What?" I finally sighed. I knew that look. He either wanted a favor or information, nosy fucker that he was.

"I just heard some commotion over here," he shrugged, stepping fully into the office and lowering his lanky frame into a chair. "I wanted to make sure you were okay."

Right, so it was the latter.

"What exactly did you hear?" I hedged, my gaze narrow.

"Nothing specific," he assured me. "It was very much like how the adults talk in _Peanuts_, all _wah wah wah._ But you sounded...distressed. So it was more about the tone than the words. And the crash. And the slamming of the phone."

"Christ, Garrett, did you have a cup against the wall or something?" I asked incredulously, jutting my chin to the wall that we shared. Or had I just been that loud? I thought that I'd kept myself impressively reined in given the information I'd just learned.

"No, but I would've gotten much better information that way. Note to self."

I rolled my eyes but stayed silent, crossing my arms. He blinked at me expectantly.

"So?"

"So what?"

"_So,_ are you okay?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," I replied vaguely. "I, um, just got some news."

He sat forward, his face immediately drawn into a look of concern. "Is your mom okay?"

"Yeah, she's fine. It was nothing like that." Of course he would think of the last time I received a terrible phone call, though that one had been in the middle of the night. He'd just heard the aftermath when I'd called him on my way to the airport, a blubbering mess.

This was different; I understood that. On the scale of devastation, this shouldn't have even come close. But it hurt just as potently, albeit in a different way. I had almost lost my mom last year. It felt like I was losing Edward, too, and I just couldn't reconcile my emotions enough to put it all in perspective.

"You don't have to tell me, Rose," Garrett said, interrupting my thoughts. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

He hoisted himself out of the chair and started loping toward the door. I watched him leave, stared at the wrinkles indented into the back of his pale blue dress shirt. I'd never been one to spill my guts, particularly to my boss, but suddenly I wanted to tell someone. Someone who wasn't involved, who had no connection to our story.

"Edward is getting married," I blurted out as he was turning the corner. He stopped mid-stride and backed up, sticking his head around the doorway. His dark eyes were curious. "I think I've mentioned him…"

"Yeah, you've mentioned him," Garrett replied dryly, resuming his spot in the chair. He settled back and propped his ankle on his knee. "So, he's getting married, huh?"

"This Saturday," I confirmed. "That was Alice on the phone."

"Shit, is his girl knocked up?"

"Apparently not. They've been engaged for five months. I'm just now hearing about it." I couldn't keep the bitterness out of my voice.

"Ouch, that's cold," he said with a grimace.

"Tell me about it," I mumbled.

"So, are you going?"

I gaped at him. What was it with people asking me if I was going? Like that was an option? "Absolutely _not_."

He gazed at me appraisingly. "Why's that?"

"Well, because first of all I think most etiquette books would dissuade one from going to a wedding they're not invited to –"

"Emily Post is dead," he scoffed.

I gave him a pointed look but forged on. "And second of all, we ended on bad terms. I think that's reason enough."

He nodded slowly, his mouth pursed thoughtfully.

"Just say it," I said after a moment of us sitting silence. I could see the wheels working inside his brain.

"Edward's your best friend, right?"

"Was."

"Was, okay," he said. "And he's getting married this weekend, which most of the time, give or take a few percentage points, is a one-time deal."

My heart squeezed at that, the idea of forever. I knew it would be for Edward and Bella. But I just shrugged, trying hard to look unaffected.

"It just seems to me that maybe all of this is happening for a reason. I mean, sure, it was shitty for you to be left in the dark like that, regardless of how your friendship with this guy ended. But now you _do _know and you have an opportunity to bury the hatchet." He paused, and then added, perhaps after seeing my dark look, "Metaphorically, of course."

"So I'm just supposed to hop on a plane and go up there?"

"That's usually how people get places these days."

I rolled my eyes. "You make it sound so easy."

"Well, it is," he replied, standing once again. "You either decide you're going to be there or you're not. You either make amends or you don't. There's no gray area in making choices, Rosalie. And I'm not saying one is better than the other, but we all live with the choices we make, good or bad, so be wise about it. There's no rewind button."

"Did you get that from a motivational poster, Garrett?" I asked with an angelic smile, despite the twist in my stomach.

"You're a sweetheart, Rose," he said, glancing down at his watch. "I have to meet up with Carmen, but one last question."

"Shoot."

"When's the last time you took time off?"

I bit my lip, wracking my brain. "Um, I took a half day last month to go down to Arizona..."

"I'm talking about _days_, Rosalie, not four hours so you could go see your parents for the weekend."

"I don't know. Last winter." Had it really been that long?

He rapped his knuckles on the edge of the doorjamb, looking way too pleased with himself. "Well, you're overdue. If I didn't see you until Monday, I'd be fine with that. Open-to-buy isn't until next week and we've got all of our numbers ready. Bree can take care of whatever last-minute things come up."

Like hell she could. The poor girl barely understood basic math, let alone the analytics Garrett and I used to calculate buys. "I'm not taking four days off for an event I'm not even invited to, Garrett."

He held his hands up and then backed out. I heard his voice floating around the corner as he called out, "Just saying."

"See you tomorrow," I called back emphatically. I waited for his response, but only got silence, so I muttered, "Nice Hannah Montana sticker."

It wasn't until I was walking toward the bus stop hours later that I really let his words sink in. I'd scoffed outwardly at his 'The More You Know' monologue, but only because it had secretly shaken me.

I hadn't thought of the ramifications of not going to Edward's wedding when I had told both Alice and Garrett that I wasn't. My reaction was fueled purely on anger that Edward hadn't invited me, not to mention the betrayal that I was so unimportant to him that my presence wasn't needed at what was probably the most important event of his life.

But how would I feel on Saturday, being down here and knowing everyone I cared about was up in Washington, watching the boy I'd secretly – and at some point, not-so-secretly – loved for so many years marry the girl of his dreams? Would it feel any better holing up in my apartment than seeing it happen with my own eyes? Would the pain be tempered by my continued denial that it wasn't real if I couldn't see it? Because it _was _real, whether I wanted to admit it or not. It had been real since he'd walked into the cafeteria with her years ago and I'd seen the look on his face. I may have ignored it, but where had that gotten me other than completely isolated from my friends and no longer speaking to Edward? What had my stubborn refusal to understand that things didn't always work out the way I wanted to done for me?

It had done nothing, was the simple answer. I could wish all I wanted, but I couldn't make Edward love me the way I wanted him to any more than I could make a perfectly blue sky turn dark and stormy.

I got off the bus at my stop, having zoned out for the entire ride. I'd missed all of the sights I usually took in every night on my way home – the hand-painted awnings in Chinatown, the brightly lit restaurants filled with people enjoying happy hour, the bay-windowed apartment buildings nestled next to one another. In all my distraction, I'd almost missed my stop, only brought to attention because the girl next to me was getting off as well. She'd practically pushed me off my seat and onto my ass in her haste to get past me.

I checked my mailbox – empty – before shuffling up the three flights of stairs to my apartment. It was nearly dark now and the sunset cast strange shadows on the walls. I didn't turn on the lights, just set my keys and my purse on the small table near the door.

Something was building inside of me as I made my way to the bookshelf. I crouched down, searching blindly for the book whose location I knew by heart. My fingers found its tattered pages quickly and I pulled it out, turning on the floor lamp next to me before sinking back down to the hardwood floor.

I traced the letters of the University of Washington course catalog for a moment, the sensation growing in my stomach, rising to my lungs, and clogging my throat. The corner of the small strip of paper I knew would be there was sticking out of the top and I flipped right to it. It sat on top of a listing of various Economics class options. I wondered silently if the schedule was still the same now as it had been then, when I had still planned on attending UW, when I had imagined myself sitting in one of these classes, or if different days and times were listed in their place now. Maybe it had changed. Maybe it was completely different. God knew everything else was.

My gaze wandered back to the thin strip and my breath hitched as it always did when I saw the series of photographs printed on it.

There were four, all of Edward and me taken during the summer before our junior year of high school. The summer before Bella. They were pretty standard for photo booth pictures, mostly of us goofing off. In the first, I was pretending to choke Edward. In the second, he was doing it to me. The third shot had us both crossing our eyes and sticking out our tongues.

But it was the fourth shot that drew the reaction once again, that emptied the air from my lungs.

In it I was laughing, mouth open, eyes shut. I was completely unaware of what was happening next to me, the way Edward was gazing at me. It was soft and affectionate, his eyes downturned so that it almost looked like he was staring at my mouth. It was a look of hidden possibility, and one that I hadn't seen until it was too late. Maybe he had felt something for me once. Maybe he'd even loved me – it almost seemed like it in this photo – but that had all disappeared as soon as she'd shown up.

I missed him so much in this moment, my back pressed against the bookshelf, my fingers curled around an innocuous series of photos that only served to remind me of the things I no longer had. A sob escaped me before I could stop it and then I was crying in earnest, the tears running down my face unchecked. I missed his voice and his smell and his laugh. I missed the annoying way he refused to let anyone talk in the car when a song he loved came on, the way he concentrated on the lyrics and how his fingers moved so subtly, as if he were imagining himself playing the piano. I missed his friendship. I missed feeling like I was at home when I was with him and the others – Alice, Jasper, Emmett. Hell, I even missed Bella.

A violent wave of homesickness flattened me and I curled into myself further. I rested my forehead on my knees as I let out another strangled sob. It echoed and bounced off the walls.

God, how was it that I both needed to be near and away from him? That I concurrently wanted to get on a plane right now and stay in this position forever? I usually made decisions easily, though they weren't always the right ones, but I didn't know what to do here. It seemed like the wrong choice either way. I could go back to Forks and watch him marry someone else, which seemed like torture, or stay here and miss it, which seemed much the same. Either way it hurt. Either way my heart broke. I wasn't sure how much more it could take.

_I want to go home_, I thought, not even sure where _home _was, exactly. I repeated it like a mantra over and over again until I realized I was saying it out loud. I hadn't even recognized the reverberation of my own strangled voice, or maybe I'd been too caught up in my own misery.

I looked down at the photo of Edward and me through a glaze of tears. I whispered once more, "I want to go home."

In that moment, the true weight of Garrett's statement hit me. Regardless of the choice I made, I would have to live with it forever. And though both options were painful, there was only one that I could really live with.

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**A/N: Happy Monday! Is that an oxymoron? **

**So, we're super officially starting our journey here after a brief glimpse at Rosalie and Edward when they were little ones. I know I'm starting out with some question marks and unexplained happenings – I promise all will be revealed. This isn't **_**Lost**_** (seriously, I still don't get the polar bear).**

**Thanks as always to hmonster4. I'm trying to think of creative ways to thank you for, oh, everything and I can't. So I'll just continue to say that you are the reason I'm able to do this. I'd probably still be hiding in a dark corner somewhere otherwise, and you know I'm not kidding. **

**LightStarDusting, LoreliD, AccioBourbon and Daisy3853 all pre-read and made me feel better. Thank you endlessly, you amazingly talented people. And to miztrezboo, my favorite cheerleader - your pom poms are in the mail ;)  
**

**Thanks also to everyone who's read, alerted, favorited and reviewed. I'm overwhelmed by the response and support I've received so far. Kind of mind-blowing for someone who, up until three months ago, was terrified to show her writing to anyone. **

**Anyway. Succinct eludes me again. Happy new year! See you next week :)**


	3. Ch 2: Are We There Yet?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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"Am I missing anything yet?"

"Besides watching Bree try to figure out a pivot table on Excel? No." Garrett replied dryly. I could almost see him in his office, leaning back in his chair, his tie loosened and askew. God only knew where the sticker of the day had landed.

I rolled my eyes, looking around at the small hotel lobby. A matronly, uniformed woman with an unfortunate haircut dangerously approaching bowl territory was smiling at me expectantly. I held up a finger and then turned my back to her to look out the window toward the parking lot. Everywhere I looked were signs of growth. My eyes traced roots breaking up through the asphalt to an old, gnarled tree that looked like it had seen better days, though budding leaves stood out against its worn bark. The last time I'd been back, the ground had been covered in snow. I'd forgotten how green everything was.

"You're kind of a sadist, you know that? First you push me into coming up here and now you're gleefully watching Bree struggle with technology," I said.

"Rosalie, you can't be pushed into something unless you'd do it willingly anyway. Two years of working with you has taught me that." I heard a small electronic ping and then a sigh. "I have to go help her. Stop calling me, okay? Everything's fine here and you're stalling."

"I'm not –" I began, but was cut off by a soft click. I glared down at the blinking screen. "Stalling."

Okay, I might have been stalling a little bit. I'd spent the entire three and a half hour drive from Seattle to Forks with the windows rolled down and the music on full blast. It was the only way to drown out the veritable tornado of questions and self-doubt slamming around in my brain. I'd been so sure when I'd booked my plane ticket last night that this was the right thing to do, that this was the _only _thing to do.

This morning, the panic had set in.

I guess it was a good thing, then, that the ticket was non-refundable, not to mention insanely expensive. It was an added incentive not to change my mind, to get in the airport shuttle van. It propelled me to step over the threshold of the door of the plane, buckle myself in, and watch California disappear beneath me. Still, my heart pounded in my chest for the duration of the flight. In anticipation or fear, I didn't know. Maybe it was both.

But now I was here, for better or worse, and I was alone. Worse still, I was scared shitless. What had I been thinking, rushing to get up here? It was Tuesday afternoon, for God's sake. What was I going to do for five days besides develop an ulcer from all of the torturous thinking I was sure to do holed up in my hotel room? Had I stopped to actually think logically about this, which apparently went out the window whenever Edward was involved, I would have remembered that the last time we spoke, I was screaming at him to get the fuck out of my parents' house, to get out of my life. He'd listened well, for maybe the first time in the history of our friendship. So what was I doing waltzing back into _his_ life, particularly when it was plainly obvious that I wasn't missed?

The simple answer was that I didn't know. But despite all of the anger and pain, all of the distance and heartbreak, I was here now. That had to mean something, didn't it?

"Miss?"

I turned, jarred out of my thoughts. I must have been frowning because the woman behind the counter balked slightly. "Sorry," I said with a pacifying smile. "I just had to check in with work really quick."

"No worries, honey," she replied, watching as I dragged my suitcase the few feet that separated the counter from the window. This place was almost uncomfortably small, but it was the best of the four hotels Forks had to offer. It was strange not driving directly to my parents' house, though. I had no place to go here now, nowhere that was familiar and safe.

Things had changed, though the town hadn't. Even in its constancy, Forks failed to supply me with the home I craved. No matter how hard I tried to keep things the same, they always shifted and moved, even when they looked the same on the surface.

"Last name on the reservation?"

"Hale."

Her eyes, a pale, watery blue, snapped up and met mine, widened slightly. "Oh my, of course. You look just like your mother. How is she doing, dear?"

I swallowed hard, looking down at the credit card pinched between my thumb and forefinger. I should have anticipated this. It was a big story in the area last winter, more due to the fact that nothing of consequence ever happened here than anything else. Surely people drove under the influence around here, probably more than I cared to think about, but they rarely crossed the center divide of a dark two-lane road and crashed into another car. The asshole who decided he was okay after downing six beers at the local titty bar didn't have a scratch on him. My mom had been broken because of his carelessness, because of his reckless assumption that he was in control.

But control was an illusion anyway. No one really had it at the end of the day. And all it took was someone else's decision, whether thoughtless or not, to begin the process of chipping away at that delusion.

"She's okay," I croaked out, eyes still fixed on the little piece of plastic I held onto like a life preserver.

"Glad to hear it," she said sympathetically, prying the credit card from my frozen fingers and sliding it through an ancient-looking machine. "We were all rooting for her to make a full recovery, but there hasn't been much talk lately since your folks moved down to Arizona."

I looked up at her. She was watching me expectantly, her hand hovering over the receipt inching its way out of the credit card machine. What, was she looking for gossip? She definitely wasn't going to get it from me.

My mom had healed as much as she could, which was miraculous considering the extent of her injuries. The last time I'd seen her she hadn't used her cane at all. The last physical manifestations of that night were her slight limp and an angry scar running jaggedly across her forehead, right near her hairline. But that wasn't information I planned on sharing with a stranger, regardless of her level of concern.

"She's okay," I repeated stonily.

"Okay, well, you're in room 12, honey." She handed me a key and my receipt and then held up a piece of paper. "Do you need a map?"

I raised an eyebrow. "No, I think I'll be okay on my own."

"Join us in the morning for coffee and pastries," she called as I maneuvered my way out the front door.

Through some major stroke of luck, I found my way to room 12 without the map. It was small and quaint inside with a television sitting on top of a slightly dilapidated dresser and a queen-sized bed with a comforter that looked like it'd seen better days. But it was clean and quiet and it would be my home for the next few days, so I set my suitcase down in the corner next to the desk and then sat down on the edge of the bed. Fishing around in my purse, I pulled out my cell phone and let it sit in my palm for a minute while I stared at it, gnawing at my lip.

I hit speed dial 4 and then moved my finger over the 'send' button. I knew Alice would be at my side as fast as her Mini Cooper could carry her, which was scary considering she fancied herself a long-lost member of NASCAR. But did I really want her hauling ass from Seattle to hold my hand while I decided how I was going to do this? I'd gotten myself this far. Surely I could take the next step on my own, whatever that next step was.

With a sigh, I hit 'end' to clear her number and tossed the phone on the bed, then made my way to the bathroom to take a shower.

Thirty minutes later, I was standing in front of the mirror, a towel wrapped around me, my hair dripping rivulets of water down my skin. I reached forward and pressed my palm to the mirror, wiping a small circle of condensation away. I leaned closer and examined my bare face. The pale freckles I'd inherited from summer days spent out in my backyard with Alice sunbathing peppered the bridge of my nose. My cheekbones were more softly curved, less defined without makeup. My lashes and brows were paler. I looked younger this way, more vulnerable.

I vividly remembered the first time Edward saw me wearing makeup. It must have been sometime in seventh grade because Alice had lightened her hair in a misguided attempt to look like Claire Danes in _Romeo + Juliet _and was messing with it at the locker we shared. I'd snuck some of my mom's makeup out of her vanity the night before and had just finished applying it when Edward strolled up, his mouth halfway open to greet us. When I turned around, it fell open the rest of the way and his eyes widened in shock.

"What did you do to your face?" he blurted out. Before I even had a chance to retort with some biting adolescent remark, he turned on his heel and rushed off.

"What the hell was that?" I asked Alice incredulously, staring after my best friend as he accidentally shoulder-checked some kid, ricocheting him against a locker.

Alice raised her eyebrows, her face mirroring my surprise. "I think he just realized that you're a girl."

He was fine by the time I saw him at lunchtime, but the seed had already been planted. Before that day I'd never thought of the implications of a boy and girl being so close. _After_ that, though, I couldn't help but notice things here and there – a moment of discomfort when we'd be around each other in bathing suits, a foreign clenching in my gut when Jessica Stanley had taken him to a Sadie Hawkins dance in ninth grade, a strange tension when he'd wrestle me to the ground and try to tickle me until I got the hiccups (it never failed). They were fleeting moments, but moments all the same. As we got older, it became more obvious that Edward was an attractive boy and I was an attractive girl who happened to be best friends. The full force of it hit me when he started dating Bella, when he fell in love, and by then it was too late for damage control. He'd already accidentally broken my heart.

Looking back, it seemed we'd been careening toward inevitable disaster since that day. One of us was going to get hurt in the end. Someone was going to develop feelings the other didn't return. It was a story that had played out a million times, the girl or boy falling in love with their best friend, the unavoidable heartbreak when those feelings weren't returned. I mean Jesus, John Hughes had even immortalized it on film. It was an age-old tale, which I guess made me Duckie.

Garrett was right; I _was_ stalling. Between my marathon shower and then zoning out while staring at myself in the mirror, I'd managed to waste close to an hour. By the time I dried and curled my hair, applied some light makeup, and dressed myself, another 45 minutes had passed.

But it was an hour and 45 less minutes I'd spent wondering what the hell to do next.

I paced around the small room for a while, juggling my phone between my hands before cabin fever started to set in.

"Fuck it," I mumbled, grabbing my purse and keys. I needed to get out of here.

I navigated the ever-familiar streets of Forks, gnawing on my lip. I didn't have a destination in mind, but was still unsurprised to eventually find myself driving down Hidden Creek Lane, my old stomping grounds.

My parents' house, single-storied and off-white from years of weather abuse, was on the left, nestled between two other nondescript bungalow-style homes. It was a solidly middle class neighborhood where the architecture was simple, the houses a little old and world-weary, but everyone kept their lawn mowed nicely and waved when they saw you.

It wasn't quite as opulent as Edward and Alice's neighborhood, but it was a nice place to grow up.

I was surprised by the level of emotion I'd felt when my parents told me they were selling it. But all of my memories were tied up in this house. Milestones lay nestled in each room – the kitchen doorframe my dad used as a makeshift ruler to measure me while I grew, the half bathroom next to my bedroom where I'd screamed my head off after losing my first tooth, my first kiss (Tyler Crowley) acquired under the oak tree in the backyard. Not to mention all of the moments with Edward, with Alice. It felt almost as if their selling the house meant they were also selling those memories. I could take them with me, yes, but they weren't as vivid just living inside my mind. I couldn't walk around in them anymore. That space was no longer mine.

I coasted to a stop across the street and put the car in park. I didn't get out, but rather nestled myself further into the car seat and propped my head back against the headrest.

It had changed. It wasn't drastic by any means, but it was different nonetheless. Even the small things were further reminders that this home no longer belonged to me. The door had gone from red to navy. The porch was pristine now, no longer littered with my snow boots or sandals, depending on the season. My mom's beautiful rose bushes were gone, replaced by generic-looking shrubs. 'Hale' was no longer stenciled on our mailbox.

It still looked like my house in the most obvious of ways. Maybe that's why it hurt so much to be here, sitting in this car. It almost felt like I could barge inside and flop on the couch to watch TV while my mom tried to cook a meal that was beyond her skill level before finally giving up and ordering a pizza.

My phone started ringing and I jumped slightly, then glanced down at the caller ID. My mouth quirked into a small smile.

"Hey, Mom," I said, focusing on my old bedroom window. How many times had I snuck in through that thing, trying so hard to stay quiet as I pried the screen off? God, I could still remember Alice falling headfirst into the room after a party one night as Jasper and Edward looked on. She'd flashed everyone her red underwear and if Jasper wasn't in love with her before that night, he certainly was after.

"Hey, honey," her warm voice washed over me and I closed my eyes at the familiar sound. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing," I lied.

"I tried calling you at work but you didn't answer. Did you leave early?"

"Not exactly." I paused, waiting for her to question me, but she stayed silent. I sighed, my eyes tracing the numbers over the front door. "I'm at home."

"Oh, okay," she replied. "I just wanted to make sure you were –"

"Mom, I'm in Forks."

There was another pause as she presumably tried to figure out what the hell was going on. "Rosalie?"

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for her inevitable reaction to the news I was about to deliver. She was still holding out hope that Edward and I would find our happily ever after together and this would probably devastate her. She'd been shocked when he'd started dating Bella, so confused that he'd chosen her over me. To her, the blossoming of our friendship to romance was inevitable. I was beautiful and we obviously got along (most of the time). It didn't hurt that he was gorgeous and well off, the son of a surgeon. I He was exactly the type of guy she wanted for me, and it had only been a matter of time in her mind. She hadn't anticipated anyone taking the place she so clearly saw me in. If possible, she was even more blindsided than I was.

"But she's so _plain_," she'd say every time Bella's name came up, searching my face as if the reason he didn't choose me was etched out on my skin.

She still didn't understand that I could be the most beautiful girl in the world and it wouldn't matter. I wasn't _her_. Though she obviously wasn't willing to see it, the reasons that Edward loved Bella went much further than skin-deep, and they were a inimitable mix of attributes, of moments and thoughts and words that I couldn't have ever hoped to recreate. A lovely face couldn't replace what he saw in her or more importantly, what he had with her.

"Edward and Bella are getting married," I said, my heart clenching. It made it more real to say it out loud.

"What? When?" Her voice rose three octaves in surprise. I could almost see her clutching the phone, her eyes wide.

Jesus, like mother like daughter.

"On Saturday," I replied, cringing at her responding gasp.

"Oh, Rosalie," she sighed, sounding almost disappointed. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

"Um," I stalled, drawing out the word to buy myself some time.

She didn't know that Edward and I hadn't talked since her accident. With all of the emotional and physical torture she had gone through right after it, as well as in the months that followed, I never found the right time to tell her what had happened between us that night. When she asked how he was, I'd tell her he was fine and move onto the next subject quickly. He _was _fine, based on the random bits of information that Alice peppered into our conversations when I'd let her get away with it, and I didn't want our destroyed friendship to be one more thing for my mom to worry about.

But now here we were, her thinking I'd kept Edward's wedding from her. I could almost feel the hurt permeating through the phone and I wanted to tell her that this was brand new information to me as well. That would require a hell of a lot of explanation, though, and I just didn't feel up to it. I had to push down the rising anger at Edward – at all of them – for putting me in this position.

"I don't know, it just never seemed like the right time. You only just started feeling better and I thought this might upset you. I'm really sorry."

She tsked. "I never thought he'd actually marry her."

"Well, he is," I said quietly. "He loves her very much."

A weariness seeped into her voice suddenly. "It should have been you."

"For God's sake, Mom, _please_. Just let it go, okay?" I pleaded, swallowing against the thick knot in my throat.

"I have let it go," she replied defensively. "I was just making a statement."

I shook my head, resigned. We could go back and forth like this endlessly, but I didn't really have the time or energy to do that. Not today. "Listen, I have to go. Will you please rest for me?"

This was how every conversation of ours ended since the accident, with me reminding her to take it easy. She was apt to exhaust herself, mostly because she refused to acknowledge that her body didn't work the way it used to, that she had changed. She had to go slower now, do less, and I knew it frustrated her. Sometimes she just pushed too hard.

"That's all I do these days, honey," she sighed, then added, "Say hello to Esme and Carlisle for me, won't you? Send everyone our best wishes."

I tried to contain my snort – best wishes my ass – but it escaped anyway. I covered it with a cough. "Okay, Mom. I love you."

"I love you, too."

I could tell she wanted to say more, but what was there to possibly say? The man of our dreams was marrying someone else in four days and we were both going to have to come to terms with that.

As it turned out, she did have more to say. "Oh, and Rose?"

Her voice was tinny, coming from far away. I had already lowered the phone to disconnect, but brought it back up to my ear. "Yeah?"

"Tell Edward thank you for the beautiful flowers. I can't believe he still remembers that tulips are my favorite."

For the second time in two days, I felt the blood drain from my body. "What flowers?"

"Didn't he tell you? He had a gorgeous bouquet sent from a local florist the other day. It must have cost him a fortune."

"He didn't tell me," I managed to choke out. "Wh – why did he send them?"

"I assumed it was because you told him how I was doing. Last Wednesday was my last day of physical therapy, you know, and I'm walking on my own now. The card just said 'love, Edward.'" She stopped. "Are you still there, Rose?"

"Mom, I have to go," I said, my voice wavering.

"Okay." I could hear the confusion in her voice. "Well, don't forget to tell him thank you."

"I'll tell him," I replied shortly. "Bye, Mom."

"Bye, baby."

My shaking fingers hit the 'end' key and I stared at the phone for a moment, trying to take in the information she'd just supplied me with.

It was obvious that Alice had been passing on the news of my mom's recovery. But why the flowers? Surely he realized that I'd hear about what he'd done. Edward walked on water as far as she was concerned and a gesture like this would have her talking for weeks.

I didn't want to think that it was a subtle way to reach out to me, but my hopeful heart went there anyway. After so much silence, so many days and months of non-communication, suddenly there was this, right before his wedding. Maybe it meant that he still cared after all. Maybe it meant that he still thought of us, of me.

There was a high-pitched shriek from across the street, startling me out of my thoughts. Two kids were running along the sidewalk, a tow-headed boy and a girl with long chestnut curls. The little girl was laughing, looking back at him as she ran and he grabbed for her hand just before she slipped out of reach.

They skipped down the street, their mothers ambling several feet behind them. I watched with tears in my eyes as they grinned at each other. She stopped, distracted by something, and the boy yanked on her arm to quicken her pace.

"Be careful with her, Aaron!" one of the women called out.

I closed my eyes, a tear slipping out and down my cheek, and took a deep breath as I started the engine.

God, I longed for the days when it had been simple like that, when a warning to be careful with one another had been straightforward. When the consequences of hurt and tears and shouting had been a ten-minute timeout instead of ruined friendships and broken hearts. But we weren't kids anymore and no one was going to tell us what to do.

Besides, I knew what I had to do. I'd come up here for a reason, and that reason was Edward.

"No more stalling," I whispered, wiping at my cheek with the back of my hand before putting the car in drive. I glanced at the house one last time before focusing my eyes ahead and driving away.

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**A/N: Wow, you sure know how to spoil a girl, don't you? I can't believe the amazing, amazing reviews I've received. They're all so thoughtful and insightful and I read them all over and over again because they're that freaking awesome. It kind of makes me speechless (which is hard to do). **

**Thanks as always to hmonster4, aka the wind beneath my wings, as well as the other usual suspects – you know who you are ;) **

**There is now a Twilighted thread for this story – http://bit(dot)ly/62BxaB. ****Stop by if you get a chance! There are some really pretty man pictures there. Just saying. Oh, and I will be posting teasers, answering questions, etc. **

**So, Rosalie's on her way. What's going to happen, I wonder? Stay tuned…**


	4. Ch 3: What Do You Go Home To?

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

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I'd only been in Edward and Bella's apartment once, when they'd moved in a few years ago. We'd all just graduated from college, me from the University of San Francisco and everyone else from UW, save for Emmett and Jasper who had graduated the year before. I was home for a week before I started looking for work back in California. I stayed with Alice and Jasper in their apartment in the city for a few days, not ready to go home and face the next step Edward was taking with Bella. And yet I didn't want to be left out of it either. I already felt like I'd missed so much during my four years in California. There were too many memories that had been made without me; the thought of missing any more scared me. I could practically feel my friends slipping through my fingers. It was once again a situation of deciding which was worse: the pain of not participating, of being that much closer to being forgotten, or of seeing my best friend move on in a more permanent way.

So we all made the drive back to Forks, Edward and Bella in the U-Haul and the rest of us in Emmett's Jeep. I'd beaten Jasper to shotgun and sat with my bare feet on the dash of the car the entire way there, head tilted back to bask in the warm sunshine, laughing at the way Emmett massacred the lyrics to every song that came on the radio. Alice was draped over Jasper in the backseat and they occasionally read us the dirty mad libs they created from the book Jasper carried around in case boredom set in.

We spent the day unloading boxes filled with Edward and Bella's belongings, placing them in the empty kitchen, the living room, the bedroom. I focused on the task, not wanting to think of the ways they were going to fill the rooms and walls with things that would now belong to both of them. I avoided the bedroom when I could – I certainly didn't want to see how their things would fit together _there_. It was too personal, too intimate, and I didn't think my heart would be able to take it anyway.

I didn't want to think of the way Edward was moving on without me. But the walls cocooning their new home had been a stark reminder that he was. That he _had_ been. I just hadn't been around to fully see it.

He gave me a hug before I left for my parents' house that night, his arms tightening around my waist, and whispered 'thank you' in my ear. And then he left me there on the front stoop to go back into the house where Bella waited for him, its windows bathed in warm light. I'd never felt the distance between us more than in that moment. A thousand miles couldn't make me feel as far away from him as I did then, though it only served as a further buffer between our separate lives.

Despite my time away from Forks and the fact that I hadn't been to Edward's apartment in years, I still managed to find the complex with little to no effort. I guess that was one of the perks of living in a ridiculously small town – it was virtually impossible to get lost.

I pulled into a visitor-designated parking space, turning the engine off with a flick of my wrist. I could see Edward's silver Mom-mobile about ten feet away, nestled right next to Bella's truck. My eyes widened in disbelief. That thing had been close to death last I heard. It was a miracle it was still in one piece, let alone functional.

I heard a distant _ping _sound from my purse and reached over to the passenger seat, digging out my phone. It was a text message from Alice.

_Miss u_, it said. I bit my lip and typed out a quick response. She knew I hated text speak, but she was always too impatient to write the words out fully. It was comforting in a way, knowing that little quirk of hers was still there.

_Miss you too, A. I'll call you later. I need to talk to you._

Her reply was swift, almost immediate. _Is everything ok?? _

I snorted softly at that. Okay was relative at this point. But I knew I needed to tell her where I was and sooner rather than later. She'd probably be heading out here in the next day or two and while I didn't want her rushing or blowing off work just to be by my side, I also didn't want to blindside her with my presence, particularly after I had so adamantly refused to come just yesterday.

Anyway, chances were I'd need someone to talk to later. _I hope it will be. Don't worry, okay? I'll call you tonight. _

_K, luv u_

_Luv u 2_, I replied, just to tease her. Sure enough, she came back at me right away.

_Brat_

I tossed the phone back into my bag and climbed out of the car, crossing the parking lot toward their front door. The sun was starting to make its descent in the west, its rays peeking through the pine trees surrounding the perimeter of the parking lot. I could hear music drifting out from somewhere and the smell of coals from a barbeque. Birds and grasshoppers chirped in harmony, adding to the quiet rhythm of my feet against the asphalt. It was all very peaceful, a stark contrast to the turmoil going on inside of me. My heart was nearly pounding out of my chest, my stomach rolling dangerously. I wiped the palms of my hands on my jeans and paused just in front of the door, taking a deep breath.

I brought my fist up and rapped lightly, gnawing at my bottom lip as I waited for a response. My tapping foot accidentally made contact with something and I looked down to see a pair of galoshes caked with sand leaning up against the wall. A pair of sneakers lay next to them, ankle socks peeking out of each one.

I knocked again, louder this time. Still no response. I tried the door and was surprised to find it unlocked, so I pushed it open and peeked inside.

"Hello?" I called, sweeping my gaze from left to right. I both anticipated and feared Edward or Bella coming around the corner to find me basically breaking and entering, but it remained silent.

Well, not silent. Empty. The music was louder now, mingling with the sound of voices and laughter, and my stomach rumbled at the delicious smell. I hadn't eaten anything all day.

Swallowing my apprehension, I stepped the rest of the way inside, making my way back toward the noise and smell, past a table littered with Bella's purse and Edward's crumpled up jacket, along with three sets of keys. A photo was propped up near the end of the table, a snapshot of Bella perched on Edward's lap. His arms were wrapped around her waist, his chin propped on her shoulder. They were looking at the camera but it was obvious, even in this one-dimensional picture, that they were blissfully aware of one another. Their body language had always given away the strength of their bond and it was apparent here in the way their bodies were angled toward one another, how their fingers intertwined. Bella looked like she was half a second away from tearing her gaze from the camera's lens and glancing over at Edward.

I set the picture down with a rough sigh, the knot in my throat making the exhalation difficult, then continued back to the sliding glass door. I avoided looking at anything else too closely. I didn't like reminders of the things I'd missed and this house was full of them.

It wasn't until I was a few feet away that I saw all of them.

Emmett stood in front of the grill flipping burgers, his dark hair sticking out in tufts from beneath a backwards baseball hat. Bella stood next to him, slicing tomatoes. The porch light danced off of the diamond on her ring finger.

Jasper sat in a lawn chair on the other side of the small porch, his long legs stretched out in front of him. Alice was curled up on his lap, twisting a strand of his hair around her finger while she clutched her phone in her other hand. She was talking to someone next to them and while only a knee and forearm peeked out from behind the wall, it didn't take a genius to deduce who it was. Still, I stepped forward to get a better look.

Edward.

My heart dropped into my stomach and then rebounded, sticking solidly in my throat. I expected him to look different, but he looked exactly the same. His hair was as untamed as it always had been, his green eyes dancing with amusement. A beer bottle hung between his index and middle fingers. He was relaxed and completely at ease, like he didn't have a care in the world.

He looked like nothing was missing in his life. It seemed like he had everything he wanted.

Maybe it'd been a mistake to come after all. It wasn't like I'd expected to find him curled into the fetal position, crying over how our friendship had ended. But I also hadn't expected _this_. They were all here together, all of them happy and carefree. And it didn't even seem like there was an empty space where I should have been. It was yet another memory being made without me, a moment that I was missing.

I started to back away but Bella chose that moment to turn her head. Whether she was turning to look at Edward or I made a sound I didn't know. Her mouth morphed from a smile into a frown and almost immediately into a small 'o' of surprise as she realized that I wasn't some random intruder, but rather her fiancé's absent best friend.

"Bella?" I heard Edward ask. My feet moved forward at their own accord and suddenly I was standing at the threshold of their back porch, a thin screen door the only thing separating me from my friends.

There was an audible gasp. It must have been loud because the music was still blaring, but I looked only at Bella, whose mouth had returned to its previous smiling state, though she still looked shell-shocked.

I heard a chair clatter to the ground and turned to see Edward standing. He stared at me as if I were a ghost. "Rosalie," he exhaled.

All of the breath I'd been holding sucked back into my lungs and I found myself unable to respond. My eyes traveled over to Alice, her hand over her mouth and eyes filled with tears. Jasper held firmly onto her upper arm and although he looked taken aback, his eyes were warm. I turned to see Emmett staring at me, his mouth slightly agape.

My gaze finally landed back on Bella and blurted the first thing that came to my mind, completely overwhelmed by being here and surrounded by the people I'd been closest to. I felt both incredibly near and unnervingly far away from all of them.

"The front door was open."

"That's okay," she replied, reaching over to open the screen door. "Come on out."

I stepped gingerly out onto the porch and was immediately tackled by Alice.

"I can't believe you're here," she whispered, planting a kiss on my cheek before releasing me. I reached out to catch her hand and gave it a quick squeeze. "Is this what you were going to call me about later?"

I nodded as Jasper stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, giving me a quick kiss on the top of my head. It was a familiar gesture and I sighed into his shoulder.

"Good to see you, kiddo," he said with a wink.

"Thanks, Jazz," I replied with a small smile. I could feel Edward's eyes on me but I didn't look at him, focusing my gaze on Emmett instead. He set down his spatula and grasped my wrist, pulling me gently until I was at his side. I wrapped my arms around his waist and buried my head against his chest, breathing in his scent, a mixture of laundry detergent, soap, and warm skin. I hadn't seen him for well over a year and I leaned back slightly to look at him, noticing the way his hair, longer now, curled over his ears. I could feel that his body was slightly leaner than before, though still solid and muscular. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and I couldn't help the wry grin that spread across my lips.

"Always have to make an entrance, don't you?" he murmured, loud enough for only me to hear.

"Fashionably late, that's me."

"Rosalie."

I looked over at Edward, the mood instantly sobering. Emmett's arm remained around me, anchoring me in place.

"Edward," I replied, my hands automatically curling into fists.

"What are you doing here?" he asked in a strangled voice. He looked inexplicably pained and I felt a wave of anger wash over me as I pulled away from Emmett. How could he not know the answer to that?

My voice was cold as I said, "I heard there was a wedding this weekend."

He flinched and I watched his Adam's apple bob against the pale skin of his throat. It was unconscious and familiar, a small sign that he was uncomfortable, that he was gathering his words because he didn't know what to say. I'd seen it a million times before. For some reason, that comforted me, even as resentment twitched through my body. At least I knew that about him. I knew _something_.

"Rosalie…" Bella began, darting a glance at Emmett and then Edward. Jasper reached over to turn off the music. Suddenly the area was bathed in heavy silence. Between the weight of Edward's eyes, of his words, and the silence that had descended, I felt like I was suffocating.

"Oh shit, my buns are on fire!" Emmett exclaimed suddenly, lunging toward the barbeque. Sure enough, the hamburger buns that he had probably only meant to toast were now charred and smoking.

"They make a cream for that, you know," Jasper replied with a beatific smile. Emmett picked up one of the burnt buns and flung it at Jasper, who sidestepped it easily.

"Dude, fire hazard," Edward said, frowning and pointing a finger at the bun. Instead of picking it up, Jasper toed it with the end of his sneaker and then kicked it lightly back at Emmett. Edward's nostrils flared and I saw his fingers headed toward the bridge of his nose. _God_, I hated that move. How many times had I been at the receiving end of that show of irritation?

"Do you have any Coke?" I asked Bella, taking advantage of the distraction. I needed to get out of here, even if it was just escaping to another part of their house.

"Of course, there's some in the fridge," Bella said quietly, her eyes dark and worried. Alice moved toward me, her brow furrowed and wringing her hands, but I held a hand up to her, palm out, to stop her.

"Don't leave," she mouthed pleadingly.

I nodded and then quickly strode back into the house toward the kitchen. I passed the baking supplies neatly piled on nearly every available space on the counter, the small stack of white pastry boxes sitting on top of the microwave, "BS" printed on the top in simple, elegant font, most likely for Bella's new business. Apparently she was finally cashing in on her superior baking skills, selling various homemade goods. Alice said she'd even shipped a large order of truffles to a client in California last week.

I yanked open the fridge door, the various papers and pictures fluttering in protest. Crouching down, I grabbed one of the cold cans lined up on the bottom shelf with a shaking hand. I released a sharp sigh, then bowed my head and closed my eyes.

A throat cleared. I started, standing up on wobbly legs, and whirled toward the sound.

Edward was standing there, his arms dangling at his side, palms facing toward me. He opened his mouth and closed it again, looking distressed.

"You were going to do this without telling me," I stated. I tried to keep the tremor out of my voice but I couldn't hide it. I couldn't hide the pain of what he had done to me, of what we had done to each other. It stood between us like an invisible divide.

"I – I don't know. No," he fumbled over his words, stepping closer. I moved further back, hitting the fridge door.

"I'm sure you can imagine my surprise when Alice called me yesterday and said you were getting married," I replied. "This _Saturday_, Edward. That's four days from now, and you're going to stand there and tell me that you weren't going to get married without telling me? Bullshit."

He balked, his gaze narrowing. "Rosalie, I -"

"You what?" I interrupted, the anger exploding inside of me, pushing through my lungs and out of my mouth. It propelled me forward, closer to him. My pointed finger hit his chest. "I'd love to hear you talk your way out of this, Edward. I'd love to know how you thought it'd be okay to get fucking _married_ and leave me in the dark. How you thought it'd be okay to ask Alice to lie to me for the past five months, for Jasper to, for Emmett."

His eyes flashed with a mixture of pain and anger. "Christ, I had my reasons, you know I did. Don't you remember what you said to me?"

I remembered everything about that night. It was burned into my memory, hot and painful. "Don't say it."

He continued as if I hadn't spoken. "_I _remember. You said that all I did was hurt you. I'm pretty sure your exact words were 'leave me the fuck alone.' That's what I've been doing, Rosalie."

"And since when do you listen to anything I tell you to do? You never have in the history of our friendship. And for fuck's sake, what makes you think that I'd be okay with you keeping me out of this? Do you really not know me well enough to understand how this would hurt me?"

"You didn't see the look on your face when…" he grasped my wrist, but I yanked it away, his touch white hot against my skin. His hand hovered there, between his body and mine, and curled into a fist. His eyes sparked with frustration and anger. "Rosalie, I listened to you because I had to. You _made _me. I looked in your eyes and saw all of the pain this friendship caused you, that _I _apparently caused you, on top of all of the other shit you were going through right then. I was trying to spare you any further grief."

I gaped at him, incredulous. "Who do you think you are? You don't _get _to make that choice, Edward. _I_ should have been the one to decide whether I could handle seeing you marry Bella. And you know what? I can. I came to terms with your choice a long time ago. You should have trusted that. This would have been unfixable if Alice hadn't told me." I shook my head and let out a sharp sigh. "Maybe it is anyway."

He gazed at me for a few long moments, his jaw clenching and unclenching. I watched the muscles twitch methodically. "I didn't know what to do, Rose. If we're friends, I hurt you. If we're not, I hurt you. I did what I thought was right, and then it's wrong. I can't win."

I opened my mouth to rebut, fury swirling in my stomach, but no sound came out. His words echoed around the quiet kitchen.

That seemed to be our fate, to hurt one another, to constantly misunderstand and misstep, to struggle with the control that neither of us had. If he felt like he couldn't win, then I felt like I'd already lost the game. I wondered if we would ever get ourselves out of the cycle we'd unintentionally entered into so many years ago, or if it was destined to repeat itself until one of us gave up and let go for good.

God, and there was so much I wanted to say, but I felt bound by my self-imposed silence. I wasn't ready to revisit that night with him, not yet. Maybe not ever. And anything I said beyond what I already had would take us there. It would take me back to that dark bedroom, to what I had done and what he had said and how everything had broken right there at my bare feet.

So instead of opening up that conversation, I let out a long sigh and leaned back against the fridge. I looked at him closely, wishing we could be simple again. "How long have we been friends, Edward?"

He frowned and squinted up at the ceiling, his lips moving silently as he calculated. "Twenty years, give or take a year for our various blow-outs." His eyes widened as he looked back at me. "Jesus, is that right? Has it been that long?"

I raised an eyebrow, knowing we both felt like our friendship had lasted infinitely longer than that. Whether it was for better or worse was up for debate. "And do you remember what I said to you the first time we met?"

The furrow in his brow deepened and he tilted his head. "Uh, that it looked like my head was on fire?"

"After that."

"That I had cooties?"

I rolled my eyes so hard that I saw stars. "_After _that."

"Are we talking about the same day here?"

"Edward, what did I say to you at the end of the first day of kindergarten? Before Esme came to pick you up?"

He let out a sigh, his gaze going back to the ceiling. "I vaguely remember some older kid tripping me and you taking him out with your lunch box." I crossed my arms, waiting for him to get to where I needed him to be. I wanted him to remember it. I _needed _him to remember it.

Finally he did. He looked back down at me, his eyes dawning with comprehension. "You asked if I wanted to be your friend." He cleared his throat, tucking his chin against his chest. "And then you said you'd always be there for me."

"Right."

"Rosalie…"

"You don't deserve that right now, but I couldn't _not_ be here. Maybe that doesn't mean anything to you, but I guess I'm doing this as much for me as I am for you," I said, my voice low. I hadn't realized how true that was until this moment. Regardless of how our friendship ended, of what we'd done to each other, it had spanned two decades and that was worth something.

His eyes were clouded and dark, his mouth downturned. "It _does_ mean -"

We both heard the heavy footsteps approaching at the same time and he took a step back. I tried to arrange my face into a neutral expression in case it was Bella, but Edward remained agitated, letting a short burst of air out through his nose.

Emmett peeked his head around the corner, pointing at us with the spatula. "Hey, I don't want to interrupt or anything, but I've been slaving away on Cullen's shitty grill for the past 45 minutes and the food's getting cold."

My stomach rumbled in response and Emmett smiled, flashing me his dimples. I resisted the urge to press against them with my finger like I always used to do.

"Fine," Edward sighed, scratching at the back of his neck. He looked sideways at me, his eyes questioning. "Are you ready?"

Those three words carried more weight than they were meant to. I shrugged noncommittally, not entirely sure what he was asking me or what I was agreeing to.

I followed Edward and Emmett out of the kitchen, taking a sip of Coke. I let my eyes roam the walls now, noticing for the first time how they were artfully cluttered with frames that were mismatched but somehow not. All of the photos created a symbiotic visual; Bella and Edward were at the heart of nearly each one, always surrounded by the people they loved.

My eye caught a flash of pale blonde hair and I stumbled to a stop, barely saving the soda in my hand from crashing onto the ivory carpet.

"What is this?" I blurted, my wide eyes fixed on the gilded frame and the photograph nestled in it.

I felt rather than heard Edward backtrack, the soft cotton of his t-shirt brushing against my arm. "You don't remember?"

Of course I remembered. It was a picture of a nine-year-old Edward and me, arms slung around each other at Woodland Park Zoo in Seattle. He was all legs and hair and not unlike a newborn deer with skinny, knobby knees and sharp elbows. His smile was wide. My hair was shining like a halo in the sun and I was smirking, my thumb looped into the strap of my fanny pack, good god. I could see my mom in the background, reapplying her lipstick with her Avon compact cradled in her hand.

"I think I puked my corn dog all over you not long after this photo was taken," I replied dryly. I glanced up at him out of the corner of my eye to see him looking down at me, his mouth twisted into a quasi-grin. "Didn't you cry?"

He snorted indignantly. "I didn't _cry_. I had something in my eye."

I looked past him at Emmett, who was appraising the picture thoughtfully. He glanced between it and Edward and back again, an impish grin blooming on his lips. "I don't know, man, I bet you cried. You looked like a little bitch."

He called the last part over his shoulder as he took off down the hallway and through the living room, laughing gleefully. Edward was right on his heels and nearly barged through the screen door when Emmett tried to shut it on him. I rolled my eyes, instantly transported back to the days when Jasper, Emmett and Edward teased each other mercilessly. Apparently that was still in full effect. I hadn't been around all three of them in awhile, but that hadn't changed. The thought made me smile.

I turned back to the wall and scanned the rest of the pictures, looking for more flashes of blonde. They were there, buried between snapshots of Bella and Alice, of Edward, Emmett and Jasper, of concerts and hiking trips and dinners. It was almost as if I were threaded amongst these other moments I wasn't apart of, still tethered to them. I brought my hand up to a picture of me squished in between Edward and Emmett, eyes squinted and laughing with the Golden Gate Bridge behind us, Emmett's arm slung over my shoulder and my arm threaded through Edward's. I ran my finger over our faces.

There was still so much hanging over my head, still so much that hadn't been resolved between Edward and me. I was still angry with him for deciding he knew what was best for me, what I could handle. Our friendship wasn't fixed by a long shot. I didn't know if it _could _be, given the fissures that ran through it.

But it felt like at least now I was on the right path. And maybe I was in the right place.

"Rose!"

I looked toward the back porch. Alice was standing in the doorway, waving a hot dog at me. Emmett beckoned to me from the grill, his arms spread wide to hold back Jasper and Edward, who were looking at me pleadingly.

"Ladies first, Hale," he called. Bella reached around Edward to grab an onion, placing it on her burger with a flourish, and then danced her plate in front of him teasingly. He narrowed his eyes at her menacingly, a stark contrast to the adoring grin plastered on his lips.

"In that case, you should probably let those two go," I said as I moseyed outside, gently hip-checking Alice out of my way. She retaliated with an ass smack that drove me the rest of the way to the grill.

"I sure have missed your quick wit," Jasper drawled, slinging an arm over my shoulder. I rolled my eyes and scratched at my cheek with my middle finger.

"Eat," Emmett demanded, shoving a plate with a hamburger patty and bun on it at me. Jasper slid into the space Emmett's lowered arm cleared and grabbed for a hot dog.

"Burnt buns, my favorite," I said. Emmett grinned and winked cheekily, dropping his other arm.

After dressing my burger with all of the necessarily condiments, I plopped down into the seat Jasper had been occupying next to Bella and Alice, who was sitting Indian-style on the ground.

"Hey, I tap, tap, seat backed," he frowned over his shoulder.

I shrugged. "You snooze, you lose."

Edward let out a groan as he scooped relish onto his hot dog. "Jesus, I feel like I'm in a time warp right now."

"You missed this, right?" Alice mock-whispered to me. Bella looked over at me with a grin, crossing her feet at the ankle.

_Yes_, I thought as I watched the guys descend on us, giggling over something Jasper had just whispered. Emmett sank down in front of me, his back resting against my leg, and I glanced over at Edward. He shot me a soft, wry smile and I found myself reluctantly smiling back before looking back down at my plate.

I'd missed this so much.

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**A/N: Well, that wasn't so bad, was it? **

**Hee. **

**Thanks as always to hmonster4, amazing fixer-upper that she is. She always comes at my chapters with big band-aids and makes them just…better. She is co-hosting an awesome and way overdue challenge over at A Different Forest in celebration of her very favorite Cullen, the yummy Emmett (or Yummett, if you so wish). Guidelines and deadlines are here: http://bit(dot)ly/6VRJBx . It's going to be good, trust me. That thread also has a **_**lot**_** of man pretty in it. Oh my. **

**Special thanks to LightStarDusting and LoreliD for being generally fabulous and so supportive. ,3, girls. **

**At the risk of sounding like a broken record, I also want to thank everyone (again) for taking the time to read and review. It means so much to me. *****in Jim Carrey voice***** I like you a lot. **

**Until next week! **


	5. Ch 4: More You Understand

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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My stomach hurt from laughing so much, matching the ache in my heart. I'd missed my friends more than I'd realized. And even though they were right in front of me, I still longed for them. _How is that possible? _I wondered silently as I stared up at the inky sky. It seemed like a million stars twinkled down at me and I let out a sigh.

We'd been out here for the better part of three hours, outlasting the sun and the warmth it afforded. I was curled up in the lawn chair, wrapped up in one of Edward's fleece jackets. It smelled faintly of campfire and fresh air and I burrowed myself deeper into it, tucking my hands up into the sleeves. The earthy smell reminded of a summer camping trip to Kalaloch years ago, of s'mores and laughter and Jasper's bare ass glinting in the moonlight as he ran down to the ocean after losing a bet with Emmett. Five hot dogs in two minutes _wasn't_ possible, it turned out, even for a growing college boy.

I felt like I fit with them and I didn't. Like I belonged both inside and outside of the tight-knit circle. I'd kept in near-constant contact with Alice, and Jasper by proxy, since Edward and I had severed our friendship, but Emmett and I had only exchanged e-mails every few weeks and the occasional phone call. And of course, I hadn't spoken to Edward or Bella at all. It was strange being so close to Edward, knowing the minutiae of his history, like how the slight bump on his otherwise aquiline nose was from a direct hit from my elbow during a particularly raucous game of hide and go seek in third grade, or how the first time he slept over at Mike Newton's house, Esme had come and pick him up in the middle of the night because he was so homesick.

And yet I hadn't known that he'd been promoted seven months ago, now one step closer to becoming the administrator of Forks Hospital. I didn't know that he was considering going to medical school. I didn't know that he and Bella had hired a band from Seattle to play at their wedding on Saturday or that the bridesmaid dresses were Kelly green (Alice's description, not Bella's).

And I didn't know that everyone here was in the wedding party but me. I'd secretly guessed as much, and it was confirmed when wedding talk inevitably came up and everyone shifted in their seats. Their history with one another ran nearly as deep and rich as mine and Edward's, though only Alice could claim the length we had, without the fault line of destruction running underneath it. Of course they would be a part of it.

Edward looked everywhere but me for that portion of the conversation, guilt and something else, something unidentifiable, written on his face. Finally Emmett and Jasper steered the conversation to safer waters.

I knew I'd missed a lot, but it was one thing understanding that from 885 miles away. It was quite another to be face-to-face with it.

"I hate to break this party up, but my fiancée is falling asleep," Edward said in a low voice. His arm was wrapped around a barely conscious Bella. Her eyes fluttered open at the mention of _fiancée.  
_

"I'm up," she murmured sleepily, sitting up and rubbing her eyes.

Edward nudged her with his shoulder. "I told you not to have that second beer. Alcohol always knocks you out."

She waved him off dismissively, but her yawn gave her away. I uncurled my legs, stretching them out in front of me.

"I should probably get going, anyway. It's been a long day for me," I said, catching the tail end of Bella's yawn.

"Where are you staying, Rose?" Jasper asked. He dropped his arms from around Alice's waist and she scooted off of his lap, settling herself in between his legs.

I sat up straighter as everyone's attention turned to me. I guess it wouldn't have dawned on anyone that I didn't have a home to go anymore. "Forks Hotel."

"You can stay with my parents," Edward said, his first word almost overlapping my last. He was hunched forward, forearms resting on his thighs, his expression inexplicably sad.

"No, that's okay," I replied. "I'm sure Esme's busy with wedding plans. I'd just get in the way."

"You wouldn't," Bella assured, looking at Edward and then over at me.

"You're family, Rose," Edward added quietly. "You know you're always welcome at my house."

I sucked in my cheeks, gazing as sharply at him as his words dug into me. Was he an idiot, saying I was welcome at his house? Esme and Carlisle hadn't seen me for nearly a year and I wasn't going to show up on their doorstep unannounced with bags in hand. It may have been my second home growing up, and the Cullens my second set of parents, but it felt wrong. It felt like his guilt was compelling him, and I wasn't going to be a charity case.

"I'm fine at the hotel," I said deliberately. He set his jaw, his broad shoulders moving up and down in an exasperated shrug.

"Hey, who wouldn't want to stay in the room that may or may not be where Mike Newton allegedly lost his virginity?" Emmett teased, sitting up to look over his shoulder at me. I shuddered.

"You might be sleeping on the infamous jizz blanket," Jasper intoned ominously. Alice elbowed him in the stomach before turning her gray eyes on me.

"Rose, I'll stay with you tonight."

Jasper blanched, tapping her on the shoulder. She turned and blinked at him innocently. "Are you really going to make me stay by myself at your parents' house our first night here? Your dad scares me."

"That's what you get for bringing up the jizz blanket."

"I'm sure you won't be sleeping on the jizz blanket," Jasper told me earnestly. I rolled my eyes. Even if Mike Newton _had _blown his load before he'd been able to seal the deal with Jessica Stanley, as was the nasty rumor swirling around school after our junior prom, surely the hotel had washed the comforter at least once since then.

"Just stay at Esme and Carlisle's with Emmett," Alice suggested.

Both Jasper and Emmett's parents had left Forks years ago, Jasper's after a messy and extended divorce and Emmett's back to Tennessee, where he'd been born and lived until they'd moved to Port Angeles when he was eight. Technically, if anyone knew what it was like to come home and not have a place to go, it was them. But while the door to the Cullens' home was shut to me, self-imposed though it may have been, it would always be wide open to them.

Emmett settled back against the chair again and his voice vibrated against my leg through the thin material of his shirt. "Yeah, crash with me. Esme made me breakfast after you guys dropped me off this morning."

Jasper jutted his lower lip out thoughtfully.

"I'll let you be the small spoon this time," he teased.

"Well, shit, that opportunity is just too enticing," Jasper replied. "Take as long as you'd like, Alice. I've got McCarty to keep me warm."

"I worry about you two," Bella said, eyeing them.

"So, it's settled," Alice stated, clapping her hands with finality. "Jasper and Em will stay at Esme and Carlisle's and I'm coming with home you."

"You sound way too excited about going home with Rosalie," Jasper replied, holding a hand up to me. "No offense."

"Whatever, small spoon," Alice scoffed. He winked at her and her playful scowl melted into a smile. She blew him a kiss and he caught it surreptitiously, tucking it into his pocket. I resisted the urge to stick my finger down my throat.

"You guys are making this way too complicated. I'm fine on my own," I said, my eyes darting over to Edward, who was sprawled back in his chair with his arms crossed.

"Well, _I'm _not fine," Alice stated. "I haven't seen you since Jazz and I visited in May. I'm staying the night."

I threw up my hands in defeat. Alice was a force to be reckoned with when she set her mind to something and I didn't have the energy to argue right now. I just wanted to get back to my room and curl up in bed. Whether it was with her bouncing on it next to me or not didn't matter at this point.

"Fine, you can stay the night. But if you kick me in your sleep this time, I'm going to tie your feet down."

"Sleeping in the same bed, huh?" Emmett piped up with a playful growl as Alice did a seated victory dance. "Sounds kinky."

I nudged his leg with my foot. "Really, Em, a lesbian fantasy? I thought you'd be a little more creative than that."

His dimples framed a wicked smile as he turned to me, his eyes sparkling under a thick fringe of lashes. "Give me some credit, Rose. I'm being tame for your benefit. You couldn't handle my best."

"Oh, I'm sure I could keep up without breaking a sweat," I replied demurely. His grin widened.

"This could go on all night," I heard Bella murmur, sounding amused.

"It always did," Alice said. I surreptitiously flipped her off, but Emmett just laughed merrily.

It took ten minutes to round everyone up and another five to actually get to the front door. Jasper lost his car keys somewhere between the back porch and the front door, and we ripped apart the living room before he realized that they were in his pocket.

"Oh, Bella, I forgot to tell you, the alterations place called yesterday. My dress is ready to go," Alice said as we walked across the parking lot. The guys were just behind us, their boisterous voices resounding in the quiet night.

"Great, we can pick it up Friday when we're in Port Angeles," Bella replied, sticking her hands in the pockets of her jacket.

Alice was shaking her head before Bella had finished her sentence. "Friday's too late, let's just go tomorrow. What if something's wrong with it? We're already cutting it close."

"I'm sure nothing's wrong with it but knowing you, you'll obsess about it, so tomorrow it is," she laughed, shooting me a knowing glance. "I have to pick up my new business cards from Angela's place anyway."

Alice threaded her arm through mine. "Isn't she at some graphic design conference in LA until Thursday?"

Bella nodded. "Ben will be there, though. We'll just swing by." She leaned forward to look past Alice at me. "Rosalie, I'd love it if you could come on Friday. Angela, Alice and I are doing a spa..." she broke off, waving her hands in the air, "thing."

"I take full credit for that idea, by the way," Alice interrupted, raising her hand.

"Shocking," I said.

"Would you like to go?" Bella asked hopefully. "It'd be really easy to change the reservation to include you."

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Great," she said, looking genuinely pleased. I gave her a quick smile and then looked away, trying to push down the warm feeling in my chest.

Bella and I had never been particularly close; we didn't have much in common besides the fact that we were both head over heels for the same guy. But she'd also never begrudged my close friendship with Edward, which wasn't something I could say for any other girl who'd ever been interested in him. I'd been dismayed to realize fairly quickly that while it was obvious we'd never be best friends, I actually _liked_ her.

Oh, and I'd tried to hate her. I put all of my time and energy into trying to find something that would give me just cause to dislike her, some reason that she wasn't good for Edward. I spun my wheels as the weeks turned into months and months into nearly a year. Edward had planted a seed the night he told me he loved me and though my mind knew he didn't mean it in the way I wanted and needed him to, my heart…oh, my heart just didn't care. It wanted that declaration to mean something so much more, and it guided me on my mission to find reasons Bella didn't deserve him. It was covert, of course. I knew that if I showed any explicit ill will toward her, Edward would flip his shit, but my demeanor toward her was icy at best.

But one night it all changed. We were over at Alice's house for a sleep over, a bunch of us all tucked into our sleeping bags, talking about the one thing our lives revolved around at the time – boys. Jessica turned to Bella, who was pretending to be asleep, and poked her until she couldn't reasonably pretend anymore. Jessica pressed her relentlessly for details of her and Edward's sex life, which thank _God _Bella didn't indulge her in. Her face went bright red at the mention of the three-letter word.

And then Jessica asked her if they'd exchanged 'I love you's' yet.

I watched, my cheek pressed against my pillow, as her face faded from bright red to faintly flushed, as her eyes softened and her lips curled into a small smile. She probably didn't even realize the transformation she went through in that brief moment. She didn't need to say anything. It was written all over her face. He'd said it. She had, too, and it was plainly obvious to me in that moment that she did love him, that it – and she – was genuine.

I excused myself to the bathroom, but headed for the front door instead. I collapsed on Alice's front stoop, the same one I had cried on months before. I'd evaded her suspicion that night by claiming my red eyes were due to the joint Edward and I shared, but on this night I had no excuse. The tears were running down my face when she cracked open the door and I could tell she knew exactly why I was crying. She knew I was in love with him.

"Oh, Rosalie," she breathed, sinking down next to me and wrapping her arms around my shoulders, which only made me cry harder.

"I tried," I sobbed, choking on the words.

"Tried what?"

"To hate her," I replied, resting my forehead on my knees. Alice's hand made soothing circles along my back and she stayed silent. I turned my head so that my knee dug into my cheek instead. "I can't, Alice. I _want_ to hate her. I want her to be bad for him. I want there to be a reason she doesn't deserve him and I just…I can't find one." I took a deep, shuddering breath, my lungs quaking from the effort. "The only thing I _do _hate is that she's the one making him happy instead of me."

"I'm so sorry," she whispered.

She'd stayed out there in the frigid night with me until both of us were chattering and frozen and my tears had dried. And while I had been exhausted by my admission, part of me felt lighter having released my secret to someone else. Alice would protect it. She would protect _me_.

"...car?"

"Hmm?" I jumped, blinking at Alice and Bella, who were staring at me expectantly. I hadn't realized that we'd stopped.

"Where's your car?" Alice repeated.

"Oh." I scanned the parking lot, trying to remember what the hell I had rented. My eyes finally landed on a nondescript sedan that looked vaguely familiar and I jerked my chin toward it. "It's there."

"Are you sure about the hotel, Rosalie?" Edward spoke up, coming to stand next to me. "My parents have plenty of room."

"I know," I replied. "I have been there before, you know."

"Such a shit," he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching.

"The hotel's great, Edward. We have a plan," Alice spoke up, wrapping her arms around Jasper's waist.

Jasper shot me a teasing glare before dropping a kiss on Alice's head. "Yeah, thanks for stealing my girlfriend, Hale."

"It's not stealing if she goes willingly, Whitlock," I shot back. "Maybe I'm better company."

"Prettier company for sure," Emmett said, winking at him.

"Hey," Jasper objected. Alice laughed and stood on her tiptoes to plant a kiss underneath his chin, which he had to stoop down to accept.

"You're very pretty," she assured him.

Edward let out a snort. "What does it take to get rid of you people? We've been saying goodbye for twenty minutes."

"Why are you surprised by that?" I asked, turning to him. "Our long goodbyes are a tradition."

He let out a short, mirthless chuckle. Everyone else started moving toward the cars, but Edward hung back and I found myself rooted in place as well. Our conversation in the kitchen wasn't finished, but I wasn't sure what to say now. I wasn't sure what _could _be said. But I also didn't want to pass up the opportunity to be alone with him. Who knew when – or if – there would be another chance this weekend.

"You okay to get ho…" he faltered and started again, looking sideways at me, "back to the hotel?"

"I'm fine," I replied, exasperated. "Stop coddling."

"I'm not coddling," he shot back. "I'm just asking."

"Well, stop asking. The hotel is fine and I'm fine getting back to it. I lived here for eighteen years."

He held up his hands in supplication as his nostrils flared in irritation. We stood in silence for a moment and I watched as Bella looked over at us from her spot next to Emmett, her gaze sweeping over me before locking on Edward. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye, just in time to see his face soften and a small smile bloom.

"My mom wanted me to thank you for the flowers, by the way," I blurted. "She told me you sent some a few days ago. She was extremely impressed that you remembered her favorite flower."

"Tulips," he said, nodding. If he was surprised that I knew, he didn't show it. The street lamp played off his hair, illuminating the red in it, which had become more subtle with age. He was no longer the boy with the fiery hair, but those interwoven strands lingered, almost as if they were the remainder of my childhood best friend. "She always had fresh tulips on the dining room table."

"It's kind of funny," I started, digging my toe against a loose piece of asphalt.

"What's funny?" he asked, his voice low. I looked again at the rest of our friends, who were laughing as Emmett gestured wildly, propping his long frame against the bumper of my rental.

"That you'd send my mom flowers unsolicited when we hadn't talked for nearly a year." I looked back at him and he was watching me, brow furrowed. I forged on. "That you could do that but you couldn't tell me you were getting married. I'm guessing you didn't tell _her_ either. I'm sure if she'd gotten an invite, she would have told me about it. You covered your tracks pretty well."

His balked, his expression hardening. "Jesus Christ, do you really think I'm that much of an asshole, Rosalie? I didn't send her an invitation because –"

"Because I would've found out," I interrupted.

"_No_," he said, his eyes flashing. "Can you be quiet and listen for one second?"

I sighed deeply and crossed my arms. My heart pounded against my ribs like I'd been running, though I felt like I'd been moving in slow motion all night.

"Alice kept me up-to-date on how your mom was doing. She was still in therapy pretty intensely when Bella and I got engaged and it didn't seem like a good time. I knew she was focused on getting better. And then it just…I don't know. It never seemed right." He gazed at me, gnawing at his lip. "Would they have come up?"

"No," I admitted. "I just know she would've appreciated the gesture."

I felt bad putting words in my mom's mouth, because I honestly didn't know that she would've appreciated the gesture given how our conversation had gone earlier. Edward knew that she adored him, but he didn't know how much she had invested in the idea of us ending up together. I'd managed to keep that between my mom and I; her biased opinion of Bella, while well intentioned in the way that only a mother's opinion could be, was unfair and I didn't want him holding it against her.

But that didn't mean I wanted to absolve him of his decision. I didn't want to make it easy for him, because none of this had been easy for me. I didn't want to be the only one struggling to come to terms with how things had gone for us.

We stood there, locked in a silent stand off. I almost imagined that I could hear his heart beating in time with mine, a lightning quick syncopation, but I knew it was just my own thundering and echoing in my ears.

He looked away and toed at the ground with a shake of his head. "You really think you have it all figured out, don't you?"

"I think I can piece everything together pretty well," I replied.

He looked back up at me, his eyes troubled. "So we're never going to talk about it, Rosalie?"

I gave him a severe look. "No. I think we've said everything there is to say."

The corner of his mouth pulled up, but there was no humor behind his eyes. "Not even close."

"Whatever," I muttered. I shrugged out of his coat and tossed it at him, secretly hoping it'd fall to the ground. He caught it easily. "Thanks for letting me borrow your coat."

"Recognize it?" he asked, holding it up. I took in the North Face logo, the slightly ratty fleece material, the small stain on one of the elbows. It looked like any of the other six North Face jackets I knew he owned.

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Should I?"

"It was the summer before our senior year of college, remember? Em and I were visiting you in San Francisco. It was August…"

The memory came suddenly and settling over me, warm and familiar. I thought of the picture of Emmett, Edward and I in the hallway, a snapshot from that visit years ago. Bella had planned on coming, too, but had to back out at the last minute because of a work conflict. I had been surprised that they still came given that we were whittled down to a threesome. "And all you guys brought were shorts and t-shirts."

He crossed his arms, the jacket tucked protectively against his chest. "_You_ failed the mention that they call it Fogust down there, Hale."

"Emmett bought a jacket right away, but you refused," I replied with a little snort. "Typical."

I rolled my eyes as I remembered how Edward had practically shivered his way overboard on our ferry ride to Alcatraz in the morning, and how Emmett had teasingly offered his services as a human poncho. He'd finally given in later when we passed by a clothing store that had a mannequin donning the jacket he now held in his arms. He fell asleep almost as soon as we got back to their hotel room, probably from the effort of pretending he wasn't freezing all day, leaving Emmett and I to fend for ourselves. We thought about writing on his face with permanent marker (tradition and all that), but drew even when we played_ rock, paper, scissors_ to trek back down to the front desk to get one. So instead we played card games into the wee hours of the morning – asshole, go fish; he'd even pulled a few magic tricks – and talked over the soundtrack of Edward's snoring.

I looked over at Emmett now, watching his hand move through his slightly-too-shaggy hair before he replaced his hat, remembering the way his eyes lit up when he'd talked about his new marketing job with Boeing. The pay was shit to start and he'd demurred that he was basically a glorified gopher, but he'd been excited about the possibilities nonetheless. My eyes had lingered on the way his cheeks had flushed talking about it, the sweet pink swath of skin over his pronounced cheekbones. I'd thought then, as I had so many other times, how easy it would be to let myself fall for him. But then Edward had snorted in his sleep, breaking the spell.

"It's still my favorite jacket," Edward said, breaking me out of my reverie. I shook my head slightly, the memory of Emmett's eyes that night, sparkling and warm, replaced with the reality of them now, watching me curiously. I looked back at Edward and then down at the jacket.

Jasper strolled over to us and threw an arm around each of our shoulders, breaking us out of our moment. "Hey, memory lane's cool and all, but Emmett said there are homemade oatmeal chocolate chip cookies at your mom's house, _so_…"

I patted his stomach. "Maybe you should cut down, Jazz, you're looking a little chunky."

He slapped my hand away and replaced it with his own, his fingers splayed across his flat torso. "Damn, Emmett called me ugly and now you're calling me fat. I'm feeling very vulnerable right now."

"You're gorgeous, sweetheart," Emmett called out.

I slapped Jasper's cheek lightly. "You have your cookies. I'm going to go sleep with your girlfriend now."

"Cockblocker," he coughed, hot on my heels as I strode over to Alice.

"You ready?"

"Let's do it," she confirmed, holding out her hand. "Do you want me to drive? I know you hate driving at night."

"Did you have anything to drink?"

"One beer four hours ago," she reported, indulging me.

I wrinkled my nose and hitched my thumb toward the passenger seat. "Sorry Brandon, shotgun city."

To her credit, she didn't roll her eyes or give me a pointed look, which is more than I would say for myself if I had been in her position. Jasper met her on her side, opening the door and planting a kiss squarely on her lips.

"Call me later?" he murmured quietly. She nodded and tilted her head back to receive another soft kiss. I looked away to give them some semblance of privacy, but I couldn't miss the naked look of adoration on both of their faces and my heart squeezed. They were so familiar with one another, moved so similarly to Edward and Bella, as if they were performing a dance that only they knew the steps to. I secretly wondered what that felt like to be that hyper-aware of another person, of feeling like you were two magnets being drawn together by a force greater than yourself.

I'd only come close to that feeling with one person, but even I wasn't so delusional not to recognize that whatever it had ever been, it didn't compare to what he had with Bella. The strength of that feeling was magnified by two, increased by shared memories and intimate touches, by lingering looks and promises rooted in intent. It was past, present and future. I could only claim one of those with Edward. He'd shared the first part of his life with me. He was pledging the rest to her.

I looked over at Emmett. He was leaning against the passenger side of Jasper's old Land Rover, arms crossed, his gaze traveling from Alice and Jasper, who were whispering sweet nothings in one another's ear and then to Bella, who'd tucked underneath Edward's arm, his jacket draped over her shoulders. His eyes finally met mine and a slow smile spread across his face. I nodded my head toward the couples behind us and rolled my eyes.

He shrugged in response, mouthing, "I'm used to it."

"No hot dates for you?" I murmured, voice low.

"I've paused the rotation for the time being," he replied cryptically.

"Too many girls, not enough time?"

He laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Something like that."

Tired of waiting for lover's lane to shut down, I opened the door and slid behind the wheel. I rolled down the window and looked over at Alice, hoping to peel her away from Jasper's lips and into the car.

"So, what do you think this beauty clocks? 0 to 60 in 10 flat?" Emmett teased, propping his arms on the car door and sticking his head inside. The bill of his hat, now turned forward, barely missed my forehead.

"I could still kick your ass," I scoffed, caught off guard by his close proximity.

His eyes, blue and green and flecked with gold, sparked in challenge. "You're dreaming if you think you can take me in the Jeep."

"I could take you in that hunk of scrap metal," I replied, jutting my chin toward the Land Rover.

"My _grandma_ could take me in that car."

Jasper crouched down next to Emmett just as Alice slipped into the passenger seat. "You rude bastards, stop insulting me."

"Why didn't you bring the Mini Cooper?" I asked, turning to Alice. She pointed at Emmett.

"I rode up with them and there's no way in hell I can cram into that clown car," he explained.

"That's right, you're all legs, McCarty," I teased, leaning over to eye his muscular calves. He laughed, a rich, low sound.

"We're going inside," Edward said, crouching down on the other side of Emmett. "Bella's falling asleep standing up and I'm freezing my balls off."

"You still have those?" Emmett feigned a look of surprise. "That's weird."

Jasper failed at covering up his laugh with a cough and I shot him a look. "Please, like you have room to laugh. Alice has owned yours since you were a junior."

"Say the two single ones," he scoffed. "Wait until you fall in love and then see what you say about your own balls."

"I don't have balls," I pointed out.

Emmett turned his head, hitting Jasper right above the eyebrow with his hat bill, and gestured downward with a jerk of his chin. "Mine are pretty secure."

Edward sighed. "As stimulating as a conversation about balls is, I'm out. See you guys tomorrow." He tapped the door and looked closely at me. "You okay to drive?"

"Just fine," I replied, turning on the engine and revving it with a sweet smile.

We waved good-bye and I honked twice as we pulled out of the parking lot. I watched them grow smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror, then fixed my eyes on the road ahead.

Alice was fiddling with the radio, pressing the pre-programmed buttons at warp speed so that only a millisecond passed before she moved on to the next. Finding nothing worth listening to, she punched the power button off and turned to me eagerly.

"Okay, tell me everything."

"Wow, I'm impressed by your restraint. You lasted ten seconds."

"I'm serious," she pressed. "Last you told me, you were dead set on not coming and now you're here. I'm mean, I'm gladyou are, but _how _are you here? You seemed so sure of your decision."

I was quiet for a minute, watching the trees whiz by us. She stayed quiet, too, letting me gather my thoughts.

"I was," I said. "But I think I'm tired of being so far away just to avoid the pain. Does that make sense?"

She placed her hand over mine resting on the automatic gearshift. It was still a force of habit from my first car, a slightly dilapidated Honda Civic that had been bequeathed to me during my junior year. I'd had no idea how to drive a manual, but my dad had gotten a deal from the guy he bought it from. Apparently he'd grown tired of lending me his. Regardless, Edward had offered to teach me, an offer that had disaster written all over it even before we'd ended up screaming at each other on the side of the road, the Civic's bumper dangerously close to a cluster of garbage cans Emmett had helped me instead and subjected me to an afternoon full of bad blonde jokes and endless teasing, but I'd been able to drive a stick shift by the end of it.

"It makes sense," Alice said. "I'm really proud of you for doing this, Rose. I know how hard it is for you."

I sighed. "It's _weird_ for me, Alice. Everything just feels different, you know? My house isn't _my_ house; Edward and Bella are getting married…" I trailed off. "I just don't know if I fit here anymore."

"You do," she insisted. "Of course you do."

"If you hadn't told me about the wedding, do you think he would have?" I asked. "Do you think _anyone_ else would have, or would it have just been something you guys didn't talk about? Would I be the proverbial elephant in the room?"

She let out a long breath, tipping her head back against the headrest. "I don't know, Rose. I'd like to think that Edward would have figured it out before it was too late."

"He doesn't think he's done anything wrong."

"How do you know?"

I shook my head. "Because he said he was just listening to what I asked him to do. He said that whatever choice he made he was hurting me, that he did what he thought was best."

"And you don't agree with that," she stated.

"No! Alice, he took away my right to make the decision."

"He thought he was sparing you the pain," she said quietly. My eyes darted from the road to her face quickly and back again. It wasn't so fast that I didn't see the guilt written on her face. They'd talked about this, then.

"So you think what he did was okay?"

"Obviously not, Rose," she sighed. "We all knew it was wrong."

_We all knew_. I looked sharply over at her and my voice was steady and even, heavy against the silence in the car. "Does everyone know what happened?"

"Not the _exact_ details, no," she hedged. She was counting on semantics to save her from further interrogation, but I pushed forward.

"Who does know the _exact_ details?"

"You, Edward, me…" She stopped. I could see her shifting uncomfortably out of the corner of my eye. The name she didn't want to say hung between us.

I took a deep breath. "And Bella?"

The guilt was there again, a flash on her face as we passed under a street light. "Yeah."

"Jesus," I muttered, mortification welling up inside of me. She'd been so nice earlier, so accommodating. So did she feel pity for me, was that it? I had the sudden image of him driving home to her that night, telling her everything that had been said and done. I saw her shaking her head and thinking I was delusional and sad as they climbed into bed together, safe in the knowledge that they had one another. The thought nauseated me.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to throw up."

"It just…God, it sickens me that she knows everything. _Everything_, Alice. How can she be okay with me being here?"

"She understands," she replied. I knew then that they'd talked about this, too, about me, and the nausea increased, intermingling with the bitter taste of betrayal.

"Oh, well, fantastic," I sniped, letting a sharp stream of air out through my nose. "I'm glad you were able to have such a nice little chat about me."

"Come on," she pleaded. "How could it not come up? I'm kind of in the middle here."

"Right, because I'm your best friend and so is Bella," I said sarcastically.

It was a petty dig, but I wanted her to know. I wanted her to feel badly for talking to Bella about this. Christ, it was bad enough that Edward did, but I expected it from him. He probably shared all the mundane minutiae of life with her, whether she wanted to hear it or not. Alice didn't have the same excuse.

But when she didn't respond, the poison that'd been sitting on the tip of my tongue spread back into my body, seeping into my tissue and veins and muscles. The knife shaped by my words had been meant for her but her silence stabbed me instead.

"I see."

"Rosalie," she started and then faltered. "I…we're close…"

"You're allowed to have other friends," I said when she didn't continue. "I don't expect to be your one and only, Alice."

But why her? Why was it _always_ her?

"Then why are you mad?" Alice murmured.

"I'm not."

"Don't lie to me, Rosalie, I _know_ you are. You're choking the steering wheel."

I immediately loosened my hold on it, the leather cracking slightly underneath my fingers.

"We're close," she tried again. "She's been a really good friend to me. But Rosalie, I would _never_ discuss the things you told me in confidence with Bella. Everything that we talked about was related to what Edward told her. She under –"

"-Stands, yes I know. That's been pretty well covered." I looked sideways at her. "She really knows everything?"

Alice nodded, her forehead creased.

"About the…" My throat constricted suddenly and I swallowed. "About the kiss?"

"It wasn't technically a kiss."

"Only because he pulled away," I stated. I could see him clearly in my mind, his eyes wide and overcome as he pulled away as soon as my lips grazed his, exhaling my name.

She placed her hand over mine again and squeezed as I remembered the aftermath of that kiss. She'd arrived at my parents' house almost as soon as I kicked Edward out. where I was crouched in the hallway, my hand braced against the doorframe. I didn't reciprocate, but I didn't pull away either. Instead I shook my head to try and rid my mind of the memories and the look on his face when he said those words I'd never forget.

"_I love you, Rose, I do_. _But I made my choice a long time ago. Nothing can change that." _

I'd felt him slipping away, before in the hallway when he called Bella to tell her he was at my house. I'd heard him whisper, so quietly, that he loved her, that he'd be home later. That word echoed in my numb brain, _home_. I didn't even know what it meant. I didn't know what anything meant anymore.

I'd thought I was losing my mom that night, but it turned out I was losing so much more. My grieving ended up being for both of them, or maybe for all of the things I was losing that night. My parents' house, the house I had grown up in, the one that had been sold just a few weeks before the accident, was packed and unfamiliar. My mom was strapped to machines and holding on to her precious life. And my childhood best friend, the boy that I had been in love with for too many wasted years, was going away, too. It was a desperate feeling, to watch everything slip through my fingers, another painful reminder that one minute you could have something or someone, and the next minute it could just disappear.

I'd felt like everything I'd known, everything that I loved, was gone. I was lost. I was terrified. I just needed to hold onto one last thing that was familiar to me. I think I knew, even before I got off the bed I'd collapsed onto just minutes before and stood before him as he walked back into the room, phone clutched in his hand, that I would lose him that night if I did what my heart was screaming at me to finally just _do_. But I did it anyway because I was tired of not trying, of holding it in. I didn't have the strength to fight it anymore.

So I'd kissed him and he was so tangible to me in that millisecond. He was real and solid and mine and then in the blink of an eye everything that we had ever had, that we had ever been, was transferred between us. And like a star at the end of its life, it was extinguished in a breathtaking final act of brilliance. He wasn't mine to have. He probably never had been and the pain of that knowledge was crippling.

I'd started to drown in it, overcome and pulled under. I'd snapped and screamed and told him that all he'd ever done was hurt me, that he'd known I loved him and had done nothing about it. And he let me slam the door on him because he didn't understand. It was obvious that he never understood the power he held over me. He'd never been careful with my heart because he didn't know he had it in his hands.

I pulled into the parking lot and stopped the car right in front of room 12. I turned off the ignition and the car went suddenly quiet, the engine clicking a few times before falling silent altogether.

"We're here." My eyes roamed across the mostly empty parking lot. "Home sweet home."

"Rosalie, I –"

I shook my head again and this time the memories settled back to the bottom, drifting down further to be forgotten.

I looked over at her and her eyes were sad, her mouth downturned. "Please don't pity me, Alice. I don't need that from you."

"I don't pity you," she replied, frustrated. "I care about you, Rosalie. Don't you understand the difference?"

Maybe I didn't. It seemed like I didn't understand a lot of things. I just knew that I didn't want to see that look, the one that told me she was sorry for what I was going through, which was too similar to her being sorry for _me_. I felt sorry enough for myself; I didn't need the extra help.

I took a deep breath through my nose and blew it out through my mouth. "Let's go inside."

I was sure I heard her mumble, "It's like pulling teeth," as I got out of the car, but when I ducked back down to give her my well-practiced evil eye, she was already sliding out of the passenger side. She'd lost that round and she knew it. The subject was closed.

We walked to the room in silence and I opened the door, letting her step inside first. She dropped her purse and immediately started inspecting her surroundings, running her finger over the desk lamp, the top of the television, her eyes roaming over every square inch that was visible. She'd always been this way, insatiably curious, and I watched with reluctant amusement as she crouched down and opened up a small mini fridge I hadn't even realized was there.

"Find anything good there, Curious George?"

Her muffled voice floated back at me. Her entire damn head was in the fridge at this point and I heard the telltale sound of clinking glass. "Laugh at me now, but you'll appreciate my curiosity when you see what I found."

I flopped back on the bed, propping myself up with my elbows. "What's that?"

"I think you mean _who_," Alice replied smugly, turning on her heels and holding up two mini bottles of hard liquor. "Maybe you know my friends Jim and Jack?"

"Are you serious?" I laughed, sitting up. Alice tossed me one of the bottles and I inspected it closely. It would take more than one of these to get me drunk, but this was a good start. "I can't believe a place like this has a mini bar."

"Don't ask questions, Rose, just embrace it. I'm getting you drunk tonight," she said, twisting off the cap of the Jack Daniels with a snap.

"I could use a stiff one," I sighed, opening the Beam.

Alice nearly spit out her mouthful of whiskey and an amber trail of liquid dribbled down her chin. "Oh, my god, don't say things like that when I have my mouth full."

"Can't multi-task when your mouth is busy, huh?" I tsked. "Poor Jasper."

She flipped me off and took another swig. I sniffed the Beam and then took a cautious sip in case it was rancid or something. God knows how long it'd been sitting around. I was pleasantly surprised by the easy way it slid down my throat, how it warmed my stomach.

"Wait, we have to toast!" Alice said suddenly, getting up on her knees and crawling over to me.

I tucked my legs underneath me and held my bottle out to her. "To what?"

"To you getting your stiff one," she replied with a wicked smile. I blew her a kiss and then tossed my hair over my shoulder.

"And to you learning how to massage the balls _while_ you stroke the shaft. It's not that hard, promise."

"You're a vulgar, horrible woman," Alice laughed, raising her bottle.

I tapped our drinks together with a grin, ready to let myself forget for just a while longer. "Cheers, baby."

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**A/N: Still with me? There was a lot of information revealed this chapter – maybe that's why it was so damned long. Anyway, thank you for continuing to take this journey with me (and Rosalie, of course). **

**I've said it every chapter and I'll continue to say it – hmonster4 makes everything you read better (but any and all mistakes remain mine). So much thanks to her for putting up with me. **

**Thanks also to LightStarDusting and LoreliD for their…everything. They have a new story up, a sequel to their fic I'll Be Seeing You, called My Girl Friday. First chap is up. It's Roseward. It's **_**good**_**. Link under my favorites. **

**Final note - the Indies are now accepting nominations. Reading a fic that you think deserves more attention than it's getting? Head on over to http://www (dot) theindietwificawards (dot) com. Just a note that nominations close on 1/28 at midnight EST on the dot. **

**See you next week!**


	6. Ch 5: Another Round

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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"He did not have a boner!"

"Alice, yes he did! Couldn't you feel it?"

"Oh, shit. Not even a little bit. Is that a bad sign?"

I snorted and blinked at an upside-down Alice from my position on the bed. "It's not a good one."

She reached over to gently tug my hair and then slumped back against the wall, accidentally knocking into our cache of mini liquor bottles. I tried to count the empty ones to figure out just _how _drunk we were, but I couldn't remember what came after five. Plus, Alice looked a little green and I thought I should attend to her needs.

"I can't believe I had Eric Yorkie's boner all over me at Homecoming," she wailed dramatically, her head lolling from side to side. "Why didn't you save me?"

"Because it was really funny," I stated, rolling over onto my stomach. All the blood rushed to my head and a wave of dizziness hit me. I gripped the comforter to steady myself. "Plus, Jasper cut in right after that. And!" I clapped my hands and pointed at her victoriously. "That was the night you kissed for the first time. So, really you should be thanking me. If I'd interrupted, you might still be stuck with Eric Yorkie's dick."

"Jasper would have asked me to dance eventually," she argued, frowning at me.

"I don't know," I mused. "There's really no more perfect time to make your move than during a Backstreet Boys song." I snapped my fingers, singing, "He wanted it that way."

"Whatever, you got misty-eyed over 'The Hardest Thing.'"

"Excuse me, that song is _poignant_."

She looked closely at me. "You're drunk."

I squinted back. "So are you."

She pressed her lips together and gazed up at the ceiling thoughtfully. "We need to do something."

"Hmm, like what? There are so many choices in Forks. I feel overwhelmed."

"Oh, Rosalie's being sarcastic, how surprising," she deadpanned.

"Oh, the pixie's getting spunky," I shot back, kicking my legs lazily in the air.

She meant to roll just her eyes, but her head went with them. "I _hate_ that nickname."

"I know, that's kind of the point."

"Whatever," she said, waving her arm haphazardly in the air. "We need to figure out a plan."

"A plan?"

"A plan," she repeated. "A devious plan that we can blame on our drunkenness tomorrow."

We contemplated this for a long moment, our expressions mirror images– mouths puckered, a single eyebrow raised, both of us swaying slightly like palm trees in a gentle breeze.

"Oh, shit!" Alice exclaimed suddenly, sitting up. The bottles clattered in protest around her. "I forgot to call Jazz. What time is it?"

I swung my head toward the nightstand and blinked, trying to decipher the numbers. "Um, something o'clock."

"Fuck a duck, I promised I'd call," she muttered. She rarely swore when sober, but was always coming up with completely random words and phrases when she was drunk. "Do you think they're asleep?"

I shrugged and watched her reach for her phone, then fumble with the keys as her eyes narrowed in concentration. The tip of her tongue peeked out of her mouth.

And then it came to me. _The plan._

"Alice, wait!" I demanded, sitting up too quickly. My head starting swimming and I rolled off the bed, my tailbone hitting the ground with an unceremonious thump. "Hold the phone."

She froze and then held the phone up in the air, confused.

I swatted at her hand. "It's an expression. Just hold on, I have an idea."

One of her eyebrows went up, but the rest of her stayed in place.

"We're going to call Jasper and Emmett," I stated, prying the phone from her outstretched hand.

"We are?"

I nodded and I felt a devious grin spread across my face. I pressed my finger against the corner of one side of my mouth, hitching it up further. "We're going to _prank _call Jasper and Emmett."

"Oh." Alice stared at me for a long second, blinking slowly. Her glassy eyes drifted from mine, probably equally as glassy, and then down to my devilish smile. A lazy one bloomed on her face. "_Oh_! The plan!"

I leaned back against the bed, the phone cradled in my hand. "Okay, so what should we say?"

"I don't know, you're the brilliant plan maker, you decide. I'm just here to watch." She crossed her legs in front of her, resting her elbows on her knees, her gray eyes intent on me. Well, as intent as they could be given how much alcohol her small body was holding at the moment.

I gnawed on my lip and then announced, "I'm calling Emmett."

Fuck the plan. I'd wing it.

"Speed dial six," she replied immediately and with surprising clarity.

I aimed for six but got three instead, and then nine. "Dammit, these keys are slippery."

"Or maybe your hands are just clammy," she said, grinning.

Six finally landed back in its rightful place and I pressed it, Emmett's name popping up on the screen. Rubbing my fingers against my palm, I shot her a confused look. "My hands aren't clammy."

She waved her hand in my face and shoved the phone against my ear. "Just call him, Rose."

We sat in silence for a good forty five seconds before I figured out that I hadn't pressed the 'send' key. After another three minutes of gasping laughter and a mouthful of what tasted like water but was probably liquor, I settled down enough to connect the call.

It rang once, twice, three times and I realized my heart was pounding against my ribs. It had to be from my laugh attack with Alice, but a frisson of nervous energy zipped down my spine as the phone continued to ring.

And then there was a deep, smooth male voice on the other end of the line. That same frisson did a u-turn and crackled back up to the base of my neck. "Hello?"

I opened my mouth to speak; nothing came out but a snort. I looked at Alice, my eyes wide. "I don't know what to say!" I mouthed.

She put a hand over her mouth to muffle her guffaw and pointed toward the little mini fridge.

"What?" I whispered.

"Hello?" Emmett said again. His voice sounded thick, like he was on the verge of laughter.

"The fridge!" Alice hissed.

"_What?_" I snapped.

"The refrigerator!" she shouted through her laughter. "Is it running?"

"You know, Rose, caller ID has really ruined the anonymity of prank calling," Emmett pointed out.

"Is your refrigerator running?" I blurted, finally finding my voice.

He laughed. "Okay, let's play this game." There was a small rustle and his voice echoed out as he said, "Es, is your refrigerator running?"

"Yes, honey," I heard Esme reply.

"It's running," he confirmed. I pressed my lips together to contain my laughter and failed miserably. "Do I need to go catch it?"

"You better go catch it," I sing-songed, his words not sinking in until it was too late. Another snort escaped me. Alice was bouncing on her ass and waving her hands in front of her face, desperate to hear the conversation. I kicked her lightly, turning so that I wasn't facing her directly.

"I think this is the part where you hang up," Emmett explained.

My face fell. "You want me to hang up?"

"Are you kidding? You're completely pliable right now. I bet I could ask you anything and you'd talk."

The warmth I'd been feeling from the liquor spread down to my toes. I bit my lip, curling a strand of hair around my finger. "Okay, ask me anything."

His low chuckle coaxed what sounded suspiciously like a giggle from my mouth and Alice smacked me on the arm, hissing, "What's going on? Are you guys having phone sex? Put it on speaker phone."

I kicked her in earnest this time and she punched my arm halfheartedly.

"What's going on? Are they drunk?" I heard Jasper ask.

"Completely shitfaced," Emmett replied. "And dude, I found your cell phone in the bathroom. It's on the counter over there."

"Oh, thanks. Hey, no missed calls." There was what sounded like a small struggle and then Jasper was on the line. "Barb, what are you doing to my girlfriend? It's 11:30 and I haven't gotten a call from my woman."

"Jasper, what did I tell you about calling me Barb?" I growled. Alice perked up at the mention of his name and reached for the phone but I pushed her hand away.

"I believe you told me not to call you Barb."

"Good retention skills, jackass."

"But you're so Barb right now, Barb."

I rolled my eyes at the stupid nickname acquired during a _very_ drunken night back in college. I'd been visiting everyone for the weekend and Jasper and Emmett took us all to a bar with a lackadaisical ID-checking policy. It also had a karaoke machine, which is always a mistake when mixed with too much alcohol. Jasper thought it would be hilarious to sing 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn' and dedicate it to me.

Afterward, he started calling me Thorn but declared that it sounded 'off' after he yelled it over the din of noise for a good ten minutes. He toiled over it for most of the night, determined to come up with something clever.

And then the light bulb had turned on.

_Barb._

"It's not just a synonym for thorn, Barb," he'd slurred, my face caught between his hands. He pressed my cheeks together until my lips puckered out like a fish. "It's also a _very_ attractive name."

It was at that point that Alice had fallen off her stool and into Bella, her drunken laughter echoing over the noise of the bar. All of them proceeded to call me Barb for the rest of the night. Jasper's friend Peter thought it _was _my name. Jasper had reluctantly set him straight, but only after I threatened to murder him in his sleep unless he stopped introducing me as Barb.

He'd reined in the use of it since then, I assumed because he wanted to live. He only brought it up when he was physically out of range of my wrath.

Esme and Carlisle's house wasn't _that_ far away, though. I could still walk there and kill him.

"Put Emmett back on the phone, Jasper," I stated.

"No, put Alice on the phone really quick."

"No, you called me _that_ name, you get no girlfriend time."

"It's not like I called you Voldemort, Barb, for shit's sake," Jasper sighed, but handed the phone back to Emmett. He knew better than to argue with me when I was drunk.

"Where's Jasper?" Alice said loudly, a bottle of Jim Beam in one hand and Jack in the other.

"His head is too far up his ass to talk right now, he'll call you later," I replied. She stared at me for a long second and then shrugged, standing up and pitching into the wall.

"Sorry," she murmured, rubbing her forearm against it before disappearing around the corner into the bathroom.

"You there, Barb?"

My eyes narrowed. "Call me Barb again, McCarty, and see what I do to you."

"Is that supposed to be a threat?" he asked. I could practically feel his smirk through the phone.

"It's definitely a promise."

"Oh, well, that's even better. How else can I get myself into trouble with you?"

"I'll think about that. And hey, the offer still stands, you know," I said, standing up to pace the length of the room. My body felt like it was vibrating with energy. I needed to expend it somehow; it was only building to an uncomfortable level sitting on the floor.

"What offer?" The chatter that had been filtering through in the background disappeared and I heard a door click shut softly.

"To ask me anything."

"Is that right?"

"That's right."

"Okay, here's a question."

"Try me."

There was that chuckle again, and the frisson. "Oh, Rose, you make it so easy."

I rolled my eyes, strolling toward the front door, putting one foot directly in front of the other to walk a straight line. I stopped short, a sharp ache stabbing at my chest as I realized what I was mimicking.

The thought came too fast to shut down, that the asshole who hit my mom hadn't been administered a sobriety test when they pulled him from his truck. He'd been unconscious, not because of the crash but because he was so wasted.

I shook my head and pressed the phone closer to my ear, matching my shortened breaths to Emmett's even, steady ones.

"Did it hurt?" he asked.

I frowned, pulled out of the memory. I looked down at myself, my eyes roaming over my bare legs. I didn't see any bruises on my person, though that fall off the bed had hurt like a bitch in retrospect. "Huh?"

"Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?"

My mouth dropped open. "Emmett McCarty, are you seriously serious with that shit?"

His tone took on a mock superior edge. "That's what you get for prank calling me with that fridge bullshit. I mean really, Hale? That's seventh grade level."

"Excuse me, that was brilliant in its simplicity," I replied indignantly.

"And so was my pick up line."

"I've heard _way _better than that," I scoffed.

"I don't doubt you've heard it all. Give me your best or I'll start in with the blonde jokes."

I groaned. "Please, god, anything but your asinine blonde jokes."

"You'd better hurry," he warned in a lilting voice. "How many blondes does it take –"

"Okay, okay! Just hold on a second. I'm not functioning at my usual level of extreme and intimidating intelligence." I pursed my lips, mentally digging into my arsenal. Emmett was right when he said I'd heard it all – the good, the bad and the ugly had been slung at me. They'd never been quite as entertaining as they were now, though, being crooned through the phone while I paced the length of a tiny hotel room in the small town I'd once called home. I imagined what he must have looked like, his eyes glowing with amusement, that grin and those dimples.

The image sparked a thought and I laughed. "Are you ready for this one?"

"Try me," he replied easily, echoing my words from earlier.

"Try you? I'd break you," I teased.

His voice was lowered, thick with amusement, as he murmured, "You think?"

"I _know._"

"I dare you to try."

I pressed a finger against my grin. "Listen, do you want to hear this pick up line or what?"

"Oh, you have _no _idea."

"Okay," I said and took a breath in preparation. "Are you a parking ticket? Because you've got _fine_ written all over you."

"Impressive start, Hale," he laughed. "Is there an airport nearby or is that just my heart taking off?"

My own heart skipped a beat as I retorted, "Your legs must be tired because you've been running through my mind all night."

"Someone needs to write 'explosives' on you because you're the bomb."

"Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes."

I laughed as I remembered the guy who'd flamed out trying to pick me up with the same line when I'd been at a bar near the office with Garrett and Kate one night. Garrett was mid-gulp when this banker type strolled up to me, leaned close, and dropped the bomb. Garrett proceeded to spew his beer all over the guy, nearly choke to death from laughter, and completely emasculate him in less than 30 seconds by announcing what he had said to me to the rest of the bar. The guy had skulked off, tail between his legs, and Kate had delivered a swift smack to the back of Garrett's head. It had reminded me so much of something Emmett might have done in the same situation and I hadn't even felt the grin stretched across my face until Garrett pointed it out.

"Are you from Tennessee?" Emmett asked, affecting a slight twang. "'Cause you're the only ten I see."

"Nice homage to your home state," I replied.

"Thanks, darlin'," he drawled.

"Do you think you'll ever move back?" I was surprised to realize I didn't know his long-term plans, whether he'd stay in Seattle indefinitely or eventually follow his parents back to Tennessee.

"To Tennessee? I doubt it."

"Why not?"

"Why would I? I like my life here. I've got a good job and apartment. All of my friends are here."

I pulled the phone away and glared at it, then put it back up to my ear. "_All _of them, huh?"

"Hmm, yeah," he paused thoughtfully. "I can't really think of anyone I'm missing, can you?"

"Are you saying that you don't feel the huge, gaping hole of my absence?" I asked, only partially faking the wounded tone of my voice.

"Only late at night when I'm curled up in bed, alone and crying," he sighed.

I snorted. "Somehow I doubt you're alone all that often."

"Excuse me, are you being nosy about my sex life, Barb?"

"_No_," I shot back defensively. "I'm curious, though…"

He laughed. "Those are some dangerous words coming from you. What are you curious about?"

"Your girlfriends," I replied, starting to pace again.

"You're my girl friend. Alice and Bella are my girl friends, too. You're curious about them?" he said, deflecting the question.

I rolled my eyes. "We're girl friends with a space between the two words. I'm talking about one-worded girlfriends."

"What about them?"

"What was with your comment earlier about pausing your rotation?" I clarified, speaking deliberately so I wouldn't snap. It infuriated me when he got like this, all vague and dodgy. It always seemed to happen when I was drunk, too, like he was in a perpetual state of amusement while he evaded my questions. He acted like I was so easy to distract, but he underestimated my tenacity.

"Gosh, you sure are curious about my love life, Barb." And there it was again.

"I'm warning you, Emmett, one more time with the Barb thing…"

I could see his impish grin in my mind again, those dimples deepening and framing his mouth. "What, you're going to hurt me?"

I sauntered past the television, running my finger over the top of it. "Slowly and with pleasure."

He let out a short, deep chuckle. "In that case, maybe I want you to hurt me."

"I'm _serious_, Emmett."

"Hell, so am I."

"Oh, my god, enough with the joking. Answer my question!" I exclaimed, leaning against the dresser.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry," he said, sounding mostly apologetic. "What was the question again?"

"Your rotation and the pausing of it."

"Right. Well, the rotation thing was kind of a joke. I don't really have a rotation," he replied, clearing his throat.

"What's the non-joke part?"

"That I'm not dating right now."

"And why's that?" I pressed.

"Because I'm not really interested in doing the casual thing anymore, I guess."

"Is that what you were doing before?"

"Damn, Barb Walters, what's with the interrogation?"

"I'm just curious," I repeated, and then after a slight pause added, "and drunk."

"Curious, huh? Well, I guess I was doing a pseudo-casual thing before."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"I dated a girl, Tanya, for a month or so. Broke it off a couple of weeks ago."

"Oh." The frown deepened and I pressed my fingers against my forehead. Why hadn't I heard about Tanya? Alice had never mentioned anything in our many phone conversations. Emmett and I talked every few weeks via text or email, but I knew I couldn't count on him to divulge. We rarely talked about our love lives except in very general terms and he was a pro at the vague and dodgy thing when it came to questions about his in particular. But apparently this thing with Tanya hadn't been very serious and for some reason that soothed me. Maybe it was because he was my best ally in our group of friends, the only other person who didn't have the proverbial other half. "Is she pretty?"

"Yeah, she's beautiful," he said. I listened closely for any signs of wistfulness or regret, but his tone was matter-of-fact.

"So, why did you break it off?"

"Because pretty isn't everything, Rose."

His words reached straight through the phone, made their way past my skin and in between the ribs that protected my heart. I let out a sharp breath, massaging the spot where I ached now. I thought of my mom and the confidence she'd had that Edward and I would end up together. I knew her assumption wasn't based solely upon my beauty; she'd seen the strength of our bond, the fierceness of our loyalty to one another. But surely she'd thought that my looks would seal the deal. In the end, that hadn't mattered at all. Bella may have been plain in my mom's eyes, nothing more than a common daisy to my exotic rose as I'd overheard her say once, but she'd still been the one to capture Edward's heart.

So yes, I knew that pretty wasn't everything, that it didn't guarantee success in love. If it did, I wouldn't be alone now. "I'm aware of that."

He was quiet for a moment and I wondered if he could sense the shift in mood. Surely he could hear the sharp edge of my voice. His was too light as he asked, "Okay, Hale. What about you?"

I cleared my tightening throat, trying to get back on solid ground. "What about me?"

"Have you been dating?"

I shrugged, thinking of the random dates I sometimes accepted. They rarely went anywhere. The last time I could claim any kind of steady relationship had been three years ago with Liam, and that had only lasted three months. "I don't know, not much lately. Just dates here and there but nothing substantial."

"Why nothing substantial?"

I narrowed my gaze, staring at the cheaply framed print on the wall over the bed.

"Why did you and Tanya break up?" I shot back, trying to both deflect and keep the conversation in shallow water. I didn't want to go there, didn't want to think about how hard it was to open my heart up to someone new. Edward had occupied it for so long. Or at least the ghost of him had. That was all I could really claim, because the flesh and blood version certainly didn't belong to me.

"Touché," he said with a laugh. I looked down at my bare toes, wiggling them against the carpet.

"Are you really not going to tell me?" I asked. Despite not wanting to divulge my secrets, I still wanted to hear his.

He hummed thoughtfully. "Maybe someday."

I opened my mouth to reply, but noticed suddenly that Alice was nowhere to be seen, and had been awfully quiet while I was on the phone with Emmett.

"Are you pouting because I won't tell you, Barb?"

"No," I said slowly. "I think I lost Alice."

"How do you lose an entire person?"

"She's very small!" I walked toward the bathroom, where I'd seen her heading last, passing by the mirror as I went. I stopped short and took in my reflection, surprised by the healthy flush in my cheeks, the twinkle in my eye, the slight twist of my mouth. I looked drunk. I also looked happy.

"Did she leave the room? What if she's out there playing in traffic?"

"She's not, I would've seen her leave."

"Jasper's going to be pissed if you lose his girlfriend before he can trick her into marrying him, you know."

"Right, if he ever _does _ask her," I said.

I opened the door to the bathroom and found Alice in the bathtub, fully clothed, her legs draped over the edge.

"I found her," I stage whispered. Her eyes were closed and she clutched her bottles of liquor against her chest, a small smile playing on her lips. "Alice?"

"Hmm?" Her voice, slow and heavy, echoed around the bathroom.

"What are you doing in the bathtub?"

"Taking a bath," she sighed.

I squinted at her and nudged one of her legs with my big toe, dropping the phone away from my mouth. "Alice, there's no water in the tub and you're not naked."

She tapped her temple, opening one gray eye. "It's a mental bath."

"Oh, Jesus." I lifted the phone back to my mouth. "Are you still there?"

"What's next, a naked pillow fight? And can we come over?"

"No naked pillow fights," I laughed. "I'll be lucky if I can drag her out of the bathtub."

I heard a low creak and then Jasper's voice. "Dude, what the hell are you doing in the laundry room?"

Emmett murmured something that I couldn't make out and then there was booming laughter from both of them. I winced, pulling the phone away from my ear.

"Can I talk to Jazz now?" Alice asked, getting up with surprising agility and snatching the phone out of my hand.

"Hey! I wasn't done," I complained. I had secrets to discover, not to mention a few _really _good pick up lines I'd yet to dole out.

"Jasper, did you know Eric Yorkie had a boner when you cut in on us at Homecoming? Oh. Hi, Emmett. Can you put Jasper on the phone?" She paused, sinking back down into the tub. "Jasper! Did you know Eric Yorkie had a boner at Homecoming? You did? Aww, Jazz." Her face softened and she looked up at me, pointing at the phone. "He knew. That's why he cut in."

"No shit, Sherlock. Can I have the phone back?"

"You've been on the phone for at least…" she trailed off, looking down at her bare wrist. "A lot of minutes."

"It's my phone!"

"No, it's not," she said, angling her body so that the phone was further away from me. She gave me a suspicious glare. "I gave you mine."

I wrinkled my nose, considering this. It sounded vaguely familiar. "Oh, yeah."

Alice's eyes went from focused on me to gazing blindly at the wall just behind my head. I sighed dramatically and plopped down on the floor, my legs stretched out in front of me, my feet flush against the side of the tub. "Hmm? No, we don't have bread here. We have alcohol. Yeah, I know you know that." She poked at her face, narrowly missing her eye. "I can feel my face, though, so it's okay."

I poked mine, just to be sure.

"Okay, I love you, too." She snapped her fingers at me and pointed at the phone. "Jazz said that Emmett says good night and…" she trailed off, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Karate what? Oh." She looked at me again. "Do you know karate, because your body is kicking." Another pause. "Oh, I'm sorry, _kickin'_."

I could hear their laughter through the phone and I snorted. "Tell him that I hope he knows CPR because –"

Alice waved her hand at me. "No, no, no, I can't remember that. I'm still trying to figure out the karate thing. What, Jasper? Yes! Coffee! And some scones. Okay. Okay. _Okay_. I love you, sleep tight."

She pressed the 'end' key with a flourish and then dropped the phone, letting it clatter against the tub. Propping her elbows on the edge of the tub and her chin on her hand, she smiled unevenly at me. "So, Rosalie."

I tried to raise one eyebrow, but the other went with it. "So, Alice."

"Did you have a nice talk with Emmett?"

My 'Alice is Subtly Leading You into Dangerous Conversation' antennae went up and I answered as calmly and neutrally as I could, "Yes."

"You were laughing an awful lot," she continued, her expression innocent.

"So? I laugh with a lot of people."

She shook her head, her dark hair swaying around her chin. "Not like that. You had the full-on Rose snort going."

I groaned. "Alice, come on, I'm not in the mood for this."

She pressed her fingers against her chest, all _who, me_? "For what?"

"You know what. Emmett and I are just friends."

She rolled her eyes. "Don't delude yourself. You and Emmett have never been just friends_._"

"We've never been more," I insisted. "One kiss years and years ago does not equal something."

"It doesn't equal nothing, either," she replied. "I saw you after it happened. You were dazed."

"I was _drunk_."

"You're drunk now and you don't look dazed," she pointed out.

I pulled my knees up into my chest, thinking of that party years ago. I was surprised by the priority of the memories that flooded back. I remembered being with Emmett in that bathroom, my shirt sticky with beer, of his lips on mine, followed by the reason we were there in the first place. I sighed. "Yeah, well, a lot happened that night. If I looked dazed, it wasn't solely because of that."

"You guys constantly flirt with each other," she continued, trying to make her point from a different angle.

It was a weak point, considering whom we were talking about. "Alice, Emmett flirts with everyone. Emmett would flirt with a parking meter if it were capable of any kind of response. I don't think he even realizes he's doing it."

She gaped at me. "If you were closer and shorter and I was more sober, I'd hit you right now."

I put my hand to my chest mockingly. "For what?"

She shut one eye and squinted at me with the other. "It's a good thing I love you."

"Well, if you _really_ love me, you'll let the idea you're running away with in that strange brain of yours go." I tried to give her a stern look. "Okay?"

"Okay," she said, drawing the word out and putting her hands in the air. "I was just making an observation for the sake of science."

"For the sake of science?" I repeated.

"Chemistry," she grinned.

"You're a monster," I said, but I couldn't help laughing.

She shrugged, that self-satisfied smirk still on her face.

"Hey, but speaking of chemistry…" I began, picking a thread off my t-shirt. "What's the deal with Emmett's secret girlfriend?"

Alice cocked her head, confused. "Huh?"

"Tanya," I said.

"Oh, they broke up weeks ago," she replied, waving her hand dismissively. "And it wasn't serious. Or at least it wasn't for him. She liked him a lot, but he pulled the plug when he realized she was getting too serious. That's pretty much par for the course for him."

"What do you mean?" I asked, watching as she stood up and placed the liquor bottles at one of the corners of the tub like little shampoo bottles.

"I mean, he dates a lot but he doesn't _date_ a lot. It's all very casual." She stumbled past me and then paused in the doorway, looking down at me. "And he really likes blondes."

And then she was gone, probably off to jump on the bed or maybe pass out, leaving me with a little morsel of information I had no idea what to do with.

After a few minutes of staring at my toes I dragged myself off of the floor to brush my teeth, appraising my reflection.

If Emmett's dating history was casual, what could mine possibly be called? Non-existent? It's not like I hadn't had dates or been intimate with men. God, even with my heart being such a mess, I couldn't fathom practicing self-imposed celibacy. And like I'd told Emmett, I'd been on dates. I'd even attempted a serious relationship, however halfheartedly. But I could never commit myself to someone else. I'd never felt ready for it. Or maybe it was because I found it impossible to imagine that I could ever have with anyone as a significant other like what I had with Edward as a friend. He knew me so implicitly, or had, and it exhausted me to think of introducing another guy into my life in that way, never mind adding the heat of passion, of real love, especially when it seemed impossible that they'd ever measure up. Love had disappointed me enough; the last thing I needed to do was willingly set myself up for that disappointment.

I padded into the bedroom, suddenly very tired. Alice was curled into a ball on top of the covers, her knees tucked inside the t-shirt I'd lent her to sleep in. I crawled in next to her and prodded her with my elbow.

"Mmm?" she murmured, blinking against the dim light of the lamp. I reached over and clicked off the light, then pulled back the covers.

"Get in so you don't freeze to death," I replied.

She unfurled herself and wriggled underneath the sheets, situating herself on her stomach like always, her eyes heavy-lidded but open. "'Night, buddy."

I smiled at Alice's familiar words. We'd exchanged them for as long as I could remember. It was one of those things, a tradition whose origins were unknown because it was buried by time. But you always remembered the words and the ritual of it, the meaning behind it and how it made you feel. I whispered back, "'Night, pal."

I curled up on my side and rubbed my feet together, a strange habit that inexplicably always made me feel more ready to sleep, before sighing and closing my eyes.

"Rose?"

I opened my eyes to find Alice staring at me, her expression serious. "Hmm?"

"I'm glad you're here."

I felt my throat tighten and my eyes start to water, so I shut them and shifted onto my other side. "Me, too."

I listened to her fall asleep, her breath growing steady as mine got shallower, her body relaxing into the mattress as my own tensed against it.

I'd given myself a few hours to forget why I was here, had been distracted with alcohol, with prank calls and pick-up lines and a deep, comforting voice. But now that I was lying here with nothing to divert my attention, it was all rising to the surface.

Edward was marrying Bella on Saturday, and if I thought I'd fully come to terms with his choice last winter, I was grossly mistaken. The pain of losing him hadn't diminished, and I just wanted it to all be over with. I wanted to fast forward to Sunday and get on the plane and go back to my life. I wanted to be done with it all, with loving him and knowing that it would never be returned, with feeling sorry for myself for not getting what I wanted, with worrying that I'd be alone for the rest of my life. I wanted to know if the cracks in my heart would ever repair themselves. I needed there to be an end in sight, because I didn't know how much more I could take.

"Alice?" I whispered into the stillness. My voice sounded loud, echoing in my head, but she didn't stir. I tried again.

"Hmm?" she finally replied. I kept my face turned away from her so that she didn't see the tear running down my temple and into the soft cotton of the pillowcase below.

"Do you think I'll ever get over him?"

If she said yes, I would believe her. I _needed_ to believe something other than what I believed now, which was that I would never find someone else. That he would be it for me and I would always belong to him, even while he belonged to someone else. Even if it was forever.

I heard her shift, then sigh. "It's not about getting over him, Rose, it's about letting go."

I nodded, staring at the curtains that cloaked the window. There was a small crack where they met, letting in the moonlight, and I followed its path with my watery eyes. It stopped right at my fingertips and I stretched them out until they were just barely illuminated.

"I'm doing the right thing, aren't I?" I asked as I forced my lungs to fill with air and then empty at regular and calming intervals.

"You are," she replied quietly. "I know it hurts to be here, though."

I closed my eyes and pulled my hand back, placing it under my face to cradle my hot cheek. _Everything hurts_, I thought, but out loud I simply replied, "Thank you."

She squeezed my shoulder and then shifted again. "'Night, buddy."

My face crumpled and I swallowed hard so I wouldn't let out the whimper that crowded my throat. "Night, pal."

She fell asleep quickly, but I lay awake for a long time after that, staring out into the darkness.

At some point, I reached over to the nightstand and pulled out a book I'd brought to pass the time on the trip up. The spine remained pristine; I hadn't even cracked it open. Nestled within the pages was the photo booth strip. I'd grabbed it at the last minute for reasons I couldn't explain. Maybe I wanted a reminder that he had cared about me at some point, even if it didn't feel like it now.

God, I just didn't want to forget, and that was what letting go felt like to me. I didn't want him to become this boy that I knew once. I didn't want the memories to fade away. And who would be there to remind me if I let him go? I wasn't sure I could carry the weight of them on my own.

I looked back down at those four snapshots, tracing my finger over our faces shrouded in darkness. The memories were fresh in my mind now, flashing across my mind's eye like a projector.

I thought of a particular day when we were seven. It had been perfect weather – the sun high in the rich blue sky, the warm rays beating down on us as we circled lazily on our bikes in front of my house. I'd gotten bored quickly and wanted to go fast, which Edward, being the 40-year-old stuck in a child's body, advised against. Of course, that only made me want to do it that much more and so I took off down the street, pedaling as fast as my little legs could go. Looking back, I probably wasn't going fast at all, but I remembered thinking that if I went fast enough I would fly right up into the sky. As soon as I thought of that, though, I'd gotten scared. I wasn't sure I wanted to fly after all; the ground was much safer. It didn't seem like there was really anything but air to support me up in the sky and besides, my mom and dad and Alice and Edward were down here.

I'd thrown on my brakes and skidded to a stop. With my equilibrium thrown off, I toppled over and scraped my knee against the asphalt. My dad must have heard my howls of agony from inside the house because he was there in an instant, picking me up and shuttling me into the house with Edward at his elbow.

I remembered my mom sitting me on the bathroom counter and pressing a cotton ball soaked with hydrogen peroxide to my bloody knee. I remembered screaming dramatically and seeing Edward in the doorway, his hands over his ears, his green eyes huge and worried. She promised me that it stung because it was making the wound better, cleaning it up and helping it to heal. It had pacified me enough to lean down and watch the tiny bubbles work over the scrapes. And later that day, I'd ripped the Band-Aid off because Edward and I were climbing trees and my knee wouldn't bend right with it on. The pain was gone and forgotten, though a tiny scar remained where a pebble had lodged into my knee.

Alice was right; it did hurt to be here. But I had to hope that this was the necessary pain before the inevitable healing, that the wound that I had ignored instead of treating was finally on its way to being mended.

I had to hope for it, because it seemed like hope was all I had.

* * *

**A/N: I wish I could say it's a happy Monday, but well…it's a Monday.**

**Thanks as always to hmonster4. We had fun with this chapter, right H? ;) And thanks also to LoreliD and LightStarDusting, my fond friends and perfect pre-readers (a little alliteration to start your morning off right).**

**One housekeeping item: I've tried really valiantly to respond to everyone's reviews every chapter, and I always, always enjoy talking to you guys and giving you a little bit of love in return for the huge amounts of love you give me. That being said, I'm losing the time race in a bad way. I hope you will understand if I can't always get back to you right away. Please know that I really, really appreciate every single review I get and read them all multiple times and I value the time you put into them. I hope to catch up soon so that I can get back into the swing of things (i.e. spamming you with review replies that make no sense and are probably annoyingly long). **

**See you next week!**


	7. Ch 6: Keep Breathing

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

* * *

The sunlight broke into my subconscious, but it was Alice's incessant and cheerful humming that woke me up fully.

"Alice," I growled, my voice scratchy with sleep. Peeling open my eyes, I saw her sweep in from the bathroom.

"Oh, you're up!" she chirped. I rubbed my eyes with the heel of my hands, trying to wrap my head around why she was up at what was surely an ungodly hour and why she was humming what sounded suspiciously like "Shoop." She'd always been a morning person, which directly conflicted with the homicidal tendencies that occurred if I was subjected to upbeat attitudes before ten.

"Do you know how many times in my life I've seriously considered smothering you to death?" I asked her, propping myself up on my elbows as she darted around the room. She reminded me of a hummingbird sometimes, buzzing from flower to flower, her wings moving so quickly that they were invisible to the rest of us that moved at a normal human speed.

Alice paused, looking at me thoughtfully. "Is now one of those times?"

"_Yes_. What the hell are you doing?"

"Jazz and Em are coming over, remember?"

I threw a pillow at her, which she dodged easily. "_Remember_? You didn't even tell me in the first place!"

"I told you last night!" she shot back, rifling through my purse.

"That's my purse and no, you actually did not tell me they were coming over."

"You have the good lip stuff," she replied, her voice muffled because she practically had her head inside of my bag. "And since I supposedly didn't tell you last night, Jazz and Em are coming over."

She unscrewed the cap of my lip balm and spread it generously over her lips. I wrinkled my nose, trying not to dwell on the fact that she was contaminating my favorite balm with the lips I knew she used to fellate Jasper. But hell, knowing her she'd used my toothbrush, too, which was much more disturbing.

Better not to think about it at all.

"When are they coming over?" I asked.

"Nowish."

I launched another pillow at her and then sprung out of bed, tripping over my shoes. "Why didn't you wake me up? I need to take a shower, for Christ's sake."

"Why?" she asked, frowning as I bulldozed past her to the bathroom. "They're picking me up so I can get ready at home. They're bringing us coffee and scones, too. Just throw on a sweatshirt and you're good."

I stopped and looked back at her. She was in her clothes from yesterday, her face free of makeup, her hair unbrushed and tucked behind her ears. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed and stumbled into clothes without thinking about it. It would look weird if I didn't do the same, wouldn't it?

And it didn't matter what I looked like anyway. It was just Jasper and Emmett. They'd seen me like this a million times.

I smoothed down my hair from the crown to the ends, pulling it over my shoulder, and shrugged. "Okay, whatever."

"You're so vain," she sang as I made my way to the sink to brush my teeth. "You probably think this scone is about you."

I rolled my eyes at her, sniffing my toothbrush before I stuck some toothpaste on it and shoved it in my mouth. "Do I have time to change?" I asked through a mouth full of foam.

"Nope," she replied, pushing back the curtains to look outside. "They just pulled up. Ooh, yes, big cups of coffee."

"Great," I muttered, scrubbing my teeth with increased vigor. "That's all you need, tons of caffeine."

"What?" she asked, turning to me distractedly, her eyes locked on who I assumed to be Jasper. He was probably moving in slow motion to _"_Let's Get It On" in her mind.

"Oof mphf," I exaggerated, pointing to my mouth. She hummed, preoccupied, and then turned back to the window just as Jasper and Emmett passed by. I whirled around, spit out the toothpaste and wiped my mouth in record speed before dashing over to my suitcase and fishing out the old Forks High School sweatshirt I'd stuffed in at the last minute.

I was still pulling it over my head when I heard the door open. I struggled to get my hands and head through the openings; it was definitely past fitting by a couple of years. Was it possible that my headhad grown since high school? Or had Alice's gotten mixed up with mine somehow? God knew she'd left stacks upon stacks of clothes at my parents' house over the years.

"Oh, we've got a Barb situation," I heard Jasper say, his laughter mingling with Emmett and Alice's. I maneuvered my middle finger out of the armhole and flipped it in their general direction.

There were footsteps and I gave up struggling, my arms suspended in the vice-like grip of this torturous instrument. A swirl of air hit my bare skin where the hem of my t-shirt had ridden up. I smelled soap and laundry detergent as a pair of hands skimmed along the curve of my waist, then felt a gentle tug. Suddenly I was free, staring at Emmett's gray shirt-covered chest instead of the soft cotton interior of the stupid sweatshirt. I looked up, stepping back slightly.

"Hi," he said, grinning down at me. "Having some trouble there?"

"They were small holes," I muttered, running my hands through my hair. Jasper choked on his coffee and Emmett's grin widened, his dimples deepening almost obscenely. "Oh, shut up."

"Here you go," Jasper said, handing me a steaming Styrofoam cup and then pointing to a brown paper bag. "We brought a handful of stuff because you're a princess and neither of us could remember all the shit you put in your coffee."

I peeked inside and nodded appraisingly, fishing out what I needed. "For the record, I don't put a lot of 'shit' in my coffee. Two creams, two sugars, and a dash of Equal." I jutted my chin toward Alice, who was sipping out of a cup that was at least half her size. "Way to give her the Big Gulp, Jasper."

"Hey, I'm not spending the day with her," he replied easily. I tossed him a halfhearted glare and then turned back to my coffee, mixing in the sugar and cream.

"What are you boys doing today, anyway?" Alice asked, leaning her head against Jasper's arm.

"I think we're going to play golf with Carlisle," Emmett said, sitting on the edge of the bed, coffee cup clutched in one hand. "Oh, and Esme wants us all to come over for dinner tonight. I think her and Bella are going to whip up a big feast for us."

"Fuck, I _am_ going to get fat here," Jasper muttered around a mouthful of blueberry scone.

"We'll get you out on the court tomorrow, you fat bastard," Emmett replied.

Jasper raised his coffee cup to him. "You really want to lose to me again, don't you?"

"You cheated your ass off last time we played," Emmett scoffed.

"The hell I did," Jasper said indignantly.

Emmett laughed. "I _saw _your foot go over the free throw line, you fucker. That shot would've earned you the 'E'!"

"Okay, watch me make you my bitch when we play Horse again," Jasper replied, pointing at him.

Emmett winked at him and I rolled my eyes at Alice. "I hope I live to see the day."

"Oh, crap. Hey Jazz, come outside with me for a sec," Alice said, setting down her coffee cup and prying the rest of the scone from Jasper's unwilling fingers. She glanced back at me, grasping her earlobe. "I think I lost an earring somewhere. We'll be right back."

The door slammed behind them and I narrowed my eyes, but before I could fully figure out why Alice felt the need to look for her earring outside, the bed creaked. I looked over my shoulder and watched as Emmett sauntered over to me, leaning against the desk so that we were facing one another.

"You're looking ravishing this morning, Rose."

I glared at him as he casually popped a piece of Jasper's leftover scone in his mouth, his lips curling into an amused grin.

"Sorry I didn't have time to pretty myself up for you, McCarty. Alice failed to mention that you were crashing our slumber party."

"Oh, I don't know, I kind of like the natural look on you," he replied. His eyes moved over my face and I stilled under his gaze, feeling strangely exposed. The grin remained firmly in place, but his eyes were slightly darker, almost serious. "I like your hair straight. And you look different without makeup."

"Just what every girl wants to hear," I joked, trying to infuse my voice with the levity I suddenly didn't feel. He was close and I felt that frisson again, the same energy that had danced up and down my spine when we'd talked last night.

"The crease is a nice touch," he continued, his voice low.

"The crease?" I asked, the volume of my voice matching his. I felt off-balance and I wasn't sure if it was from lack of caffeine or sleep or if it was possible that I was still drunk from the night before.

I held my breath as his hand extended toward my face. The back of his finger traced a line down my cheek. The silence in the room was suffocating, blanketed by a heavy tension, and I resisted the urge to both lean into his touch and hightail it out the door.

"You've got a little crease from your pillow," he murmured, his eyes following the path of his finger. I didn't move, afraid of what would happen if I did, and he paused at my jaw, drawing his knuckle lightly along its length until he reached my chin. And then, just like that he leaned back, tapping the space right below my lower lip with his thumb. He grinned at me unsteadily, crossing his arms over his chest, and whatever tension had been hovering between us dissipated with his exhaled breath.

I brought my hand up to my cheek and stepped back just as Alice and Jasper burst back into the room.

"We're back. It must have fallen out at Edward and Bella's last night," Alice said, stopping short when she saw me. "Are you okay?"

I blinked at her, confused, and then realized that I was still cradling my cheek. "Oh. Yeah, I'm fine."

"Were you subjecting Barb to your crappy jokes again, Em?" Jasper asked, cramming half a scone in his mouth. "She looks disturbed."

"No, no jokes," Emmett replied easily, standing up in one fluid motion. Jasper paused and looked closely at both of us, then over at Alice, who was gathering up her purse and sweater.

Okay, maybe the tension hadn't _completely_ dissipated.

"So, we'll come get you at around 11:30?" Alice asked, coming to stand next to Jasper. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, running his hand up and down her arm.

I shrugged, looking at the clock. That gave me two hours to get ready. My gaze drifted back over Emmett, who was standing near the door, his hands in his pockets, before settling back on Alice. "Sure, sounds good."

Alice glanced at me over her shoulder as Emmett and Jasper ducked out the door, echoing out their goodbyes in unison. Her eyebrow rose in silent question but I waved her off, waiting until they'd all crowded out of the room and passed by the window to let the air out of my lungs.

I went to the mirror and leaned in to inspect the slight indentation marring the otherwise smooth skin of my cheek. It was subtle, and I was surprised he'd seen it. But maybe it had lessened since he'd noticed it. Biting my lip, I following the path Emmett's finger had taken just minutes ago, moving down my cheek and along my jaw. I let my hand drift down my neck and rest against my collarbone and stared at my bare face, my eyes troubled.

Somehow it didn't feel the same.

* * *

There was something about my makeup routine that soothed me. There was a rhyme and reason to it, a natural order for everything. The foundation came first, followed by the eye shadow and blush. My lashes would get a couple coats of mascara next, my brows subtly filled in with a pencil. It was the same every time, and always with the same results. I didn't have to think about it, didn't have to wonder what the outcome would be.

But while I finished that same routine as it neared 11:30, I felt on edge, unnervingly anxious. And if anything, covering my face with makeup was only making it worse.

I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened this morning with Emmett. When my foundation brush ghosted over my chin, I thought of the light pressure of his thumb. I applied my blush, but it was his finger that I felt along the high plane of my cheekbone.

I paused, staring at my reflection. I could almost see the confusion swirling above my head, the heady mix of emotions that I just couldn't figure out. I didn't know what to make of Emmett's behavior this morning, or my reaction to it.

We'd always been flirty with each other, almost outrageously so. And I knew that once upon a time he'd had feelings for me. But those had been put to rest long ago, I was sure of it. Still, I was having a hard time reconciling my reaction to his touch, how it was possible to respond to him in that way when my heart was so caught up, still so damaged.

It felt like my cells were effervescing inside of me, this bubbling sensation underneath my skin and in my stomach that I didn't know how to release. I leaned forward to apply one last coat of mascara but missed my lashes, poking the end of the brush into my eye instead.

"Shit," I hissed as it teared up, trailing a watery streak of mascara down my cheek. I reached up to wipe it away.

The motion was so familiar, fingertips brushing against my skin to wipe away a tear. I stopped suddenly, but the memory that had been so close to the surface anyway came at me like a wave. After everything that had happened in the last day and a half I was powerless to stop it. All it had taken was one flash, one frame of action from that night and everything that I'd buried so deep inside of me shifted like sand. It fell through the cracks that had formed simply by coming back, by seeing Edward again.

I gripped the edge of the counter and closed my eyes. And then I stopped struggling. For the first time in so many months, I let myself remember what had happened between us.

Alice had picked me up from the airport in Seattle and driven me straight to Forks. It was early, so early, and yet I'd stared at my phone the entire time waiting for my dad to tell me that I was too late. She was alive when I rushed through the doors. Despite her broken body, my mom's hand was warm in mine. The staccato beeps from the heart monitor reassured me further and I stayed with her for as long as they'd allowed it.

When I'd left her room after the last round of visiting hours, after my dad had told me to go home and sleep, I'd expected to find both Alice and Edward in the waiting room. But he was alone, his head bowed and cradled in his hands. He must have heard my footsteps because he looked up and our eyes met and then I was in his arms, my mouth pressed against his shoulder to muffle the wracking sobs that tore through my exhausted body. God, I just remembered being so _tired_.

He took me home and we drove with the windows rolled down because I swore I could smell the hospital and it was making me nauseous, the scent of antiseptic comingling with the sharp smell of pine trees and the freshly fallen rain. The cold winter air bit at my damp cheeks.

And then suddenly I was in my room and on the bed, tucked underneath a blanket. I didn't remember getting there, just that I was. Edward sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at me, and he brushed a strand of hair from my face.

"What can I do for you?" he'd asked me, his face shrouded in darkness. "How can I make this better?"

"Please don't leave me," I whispered back. My voice was hoarse from crying and it gave out on the last word. I hadn't even cared how pathetic my plea sounded. I was desperate, so desperate to keep him there.

His hand moved over mine. "I promise I won't."

His phone rang and he stepped into the hallway. The house was so silent that I heard her voice, the worried edge of it, heard him tell her to hold not a minute later while he took this other call. It was Emmett, calling from London.

"There's no way your boss will let you leave," Edward had murmured. "You just got there, man. I'm taking care of her. Just relax. There's nothing you would be able to do for her anyway. I'll keep you updated, okay?"

And then it was back to Bella. He said it was bad and so was I, that Alice would be here in a few hours and then he'd come home for a bit.

_Home_. _Home. Home. _I chanted it in my head, said it every time a tear fell down my temple and into the stripped pillow below me. I said it over and over and then so fast that it didn't make sense anymore.

It felt like I was burning from the inside out, like my heart was beating too fast and too slow. And then it felt like it stopped altogether when I heard him whisper, _I love you._

I sat up with a lurch, swinging my legs over the side of the bed. My bare feet pressed against the carpet beneath me. Silent tears slipped down my face and I stared at the light filtering in from the hallway. I waited for him to come back to me.

He'd promised he wouldn't leave, but it felt like he had when the phone rang. He'd picked it up immediately and I saw his shoulder sag hearing her voice, as if some huge weight had been lifted off of them. And when he'd walked out of the room, it felt like whatever tenuous grip I'd had on him before she called was gone.

His tall frame was backlit as he walked slowly back into the room. I couldn't see his face, just the outline of his body, the unruly cyclone of hair on top of his head, his hand clutching his phone.

He made a move to crouch down in front of me, but I stood instead, my body just inches from his. He was warm and I shivered.

"What is it?" he murmured. "What do you need? I'll get it."

_I need you_, I thought, wrapping my hand around his forearm to steady myself. The words wouldn't come out, though. They stayed locked in my throat, caught beneath the lump that had formed and refused to dissolve since I'd gotten the phone call at two in the morning.

I didn't want to lose any more. I'd lost so much already – this house, maybe my mom. I remembered not being able to stand the thought of losing him, too, not after so many years. I couldn't. I wouldn't.

His finger had reached up to brush the tears from my wet cheeks and I wanted to believe that my heart wasn't wrong for continuing to love him despite everything my brain told me. I wanted to believe that I wouldn't lose him, too. His hand dropped to his side and he stared down at me, his eyes dark and worried. And then I leaned up and in, my shaking hands flat against his chest. I'd closed my eyes because I didn't want to see the look on his face. I didn't want anything to stop me from doing what I was about to do.

"Please," I'd mouthed as my lips brushed against his. There was warmth – his body, his mouth, my hope.

There was that split second of contact, that moment where I'd felt everything, all of it, every moment that we had ever shared. I saw our past, the possibility of our future.

"_No_," he'd whispered, and then it was cold, the air swirling between us as he pushed me away. We stood in silence for what felt like days, though it must have only been seconds, maybe a minute. I'd stared down at my feet, my heart pounding fiercely in my ears, feeling him move further away from me even as he stepped closer. "Rosalie, I -"

"Don't," I choked out, humiliation running like ice through my veins. Every part of me was frozen.

He was gone. _Gone, gone, gone._

I'd barely been able to make out his face, but I could plainly see the pain and panic there. "Okay, okay. _Fuck_, Rosalie. Why did you do that?"

I knew the question was rhetorical, but it was like someone had lit a match inside of me. That one sentence ignited me. Heat licked through my veins and suddenly I was on fire. I was so angry with him, with my mom for being broken and with this house for opening its doors to someone else, for letting another body inhabit the walls that had so lovingly held my memories.

But mostly I was angry with myself. This had all been mine and now none of it was.

I had lost it all.

"Why did I _do _that?" I repeated, my voice sounding foreign. It was so even, edged with steel. "You know why. You have to know."

"Shit… Jesus Christ," he'd murmured, one hand lacing up into his hair, pulling at it. He reached for me, almost instinctively, and then pulled back, his eyes wide, mouth slack. "I have to know _what_?"

"That I'm – God, that I'm in love with you." My voice had cracked again, broken just like the rest of me.

The words stood between us, just like they always had. They were the three words that meant very different things when said by him long ago, when confessed by me that night.

And then he'd said three more words that had set the rest of it in motion, that had set me fully ablaze. He'd looked me right in the eye, stepped back, and said, "I didn't know."

The sound of a car honking brought me violently out of the memory and I wasn't in that dark bedroom anymore but rather in my hotel room, leaning over the sink. My breath was short and choppy as I looked over at the clock and realized it was time to go.

I took one deep breath and then another, letting the memory of that night fall back away with each inhalation and exhalation. I looked in the mirror and made one more pass at my face. It wasn't Emmett's touch now, not Edward's, just the cold pads of my own fingers against my skin.

I strode purposefully over to the desk and picked up my purse, then pushed the curtains back, expecting to see Bella's decrepit truck idling in the empty parking spot in front of my room. My heart stopped when I saw the Volvo instead, its silver hood glinting in the sunlight.

It only took me a split second for my mind to realize that it was Bella behind the wheel and not Edward, but it took my heart significantly longer to understand. It beat raggedly against my ribcage and I let out another shaky breath.

It made sense that Bella would be driving the Volvo instead of the truck. The drive to Port Angeles wasn't that far; the truck could probably make it. I could imagine Edward pressing the keys into her hand and telling her to take his car instead because it was safer. I thought of him giving her a gentle kiss on the forehead and sending her off.

My chest started aching and I hoped, not for the first time, that I would make it to the other side of this weekend in one piece.

I made my way out to the car quickly, returning Bella and Alice's waves, and slid into the backseat.

"Hey, Rose," Bella said, turning in her seat to give me a smile. "Alice was just telling me about your wild night last night."

I exhaled a small laugh, setting my purse on the seat next to me. "I'm pretty sure the only wild thing about last night was the Turkey."

"Wild Turkey? Try Jim Beam, baby," Alice said, grinning back at me. Her Blackberry pinged from its place in the cup holder and she growled, "Leave me _alone_, Greg."

"What's going on?" I asked, leaning forward. Alice's fingers moved deftly over the keys, her brow drawn together in consternation.

"The guy that's covering my accounts keeps emailing me in a panic over one of my crazy clients. I mean, this woman has the safest portfolio I've ever seen and she acts like she's about to lose all her money," she sighed, looking back at me and then Bella. "Remember that work party I dragged everyone to a few months ago?"

She nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she maneuvered the car out onto the main road. "Yeah, thanks for not telling us the real reason behind that weekend visit, by the way."

Alice grinned. "Oh, come on, it wasn't _that _bad. There was free alcohol."

"Alice, Emmett went shot for shot with one of your co-workers and the poor guy ended up puking all over your boss's shoes."

Alice clapped her hands, her eyes wide with incredulity. "And _that _is the guy handling my accounts."

"Well, in his defense, he didn't know what he was getting himself into when he accepted Emmett's dare," Bella replied. I could tell she was trying hard not to smile.

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out Emmett was going to win," Alice snorted. "He's 6'4" to Greg's wispy 5'9". He's just an idiot pretending to be a stockbroker. He barely passed his Series 7 and is hanging on by a thread. I think they're punishing me for taking a vacation, I really do."

"They'll get over it," Bella said. "They monopolize your time enough as it is. You were in desperate need of a vacation."

"Ugh, tell me about it," Alice replied. "They're going to have to drag me back there kicking and screaming."

I looked out the window, trying to tune out Alice and Bella's conversation up front. I almost wished I was back in my hotel room so I didn't have to see the proof of just how close they were. The three of us had never hung out much on our own. There had always been at least one other person to serve as a buffer, as a distraction. Or maybe I'd just never wanted to see it. Alice was _my _best friend and it was difficult to accept that she could be as close with someone else as she was with me. And though she hadn't come right out and said that Bella was her best friend, actions tended to speak louder than words. Right now, the truth was screaming at me.

My eyes roamed around for lack of anything better to do and I saw Edward's belongings scattered randomly everywhere; there was a sweatshirt balled up under the driver's seat, a lone sneaker lying next to my foot, a spiral notebook and a package of pictures tucked into the seat in front of me.

I pulled both from the pocket, surreptitiously flipping the empty pages of the notebook. I wasn't sure what I thought I would find. Edward had only made the mistake of writing down his thoughts where I could find them once, when we'd studied Shakespeare and iambic pentameter as freshmen. I'd moaned and groaned about having to keep a notebook of our own original work – my brain was built more for math and science – but Edward had taken to it right away. He spent weeks filling out a composition book with his neat and careful scrawl, refusing to let me see no matter how much I begged and batted my lashes. He'd left it unattended at our lunch table one day while he went to grab an apple and I'd jumped on it immediately, Alice watching with bemusement from across the table. I hadn't gotten one line into the first poem before Edward snatched it out of my hands, fuming. God, I could still remember how red his face was, how the vein in his neck jutted out. He'd been angrier than I'd ever seen him and had refused to talk to me for an entire week.

I stuck the notebook back in the seat and held the pictures up. Bella's eyes met mine in the rear view mirror.

"Do you mind if I look at these?" I asked.

"No, go ahead," Bella replied. I saw her dart a glance at Alice out of the corner of my eye as I opened the envelope.

Alice looked over her shoulder curiously. "What are they of?"

"I think they're pictures from the Mariners game Jasper took us to in August," Bella said. Alice hummed and turned toward the front again, suddenly quiet.

"One of the perks of working for the organization," I mused, flipping through the first few pictures of Safeco Field and the cityscape behind it. Jasper had scored a job with the organization a few years ago. I still didn't know exactly what it was he did, just that it had something to do with operations and that they all went to a _lot _of games during baseball season.

I slowed my pace at the shots of Edward, Jasper and Emmett posing together, beers in hand and wide smiles on their faces. I felt my mouth turn up in response. There were others, too, of Alice and Bella, Alice and Jasper, Emmett scooping Bella up into a bear hug, her head tilted backwards, eyes shut and laughing, of Emmett and Edward with their hands in the air in celebration.

My pace slowed as I came to a series of pictures with a girl I'd never seen before. The first was a close-up of her in profile. She was gorgeous, her strawberry blonde hair falling down her back, wide blue eyes with to-die-for lashes and full lips stretched into a smile.

"Who is this?" I asked, holding it up as I flipped to the next picture. My heart jumped into my throat. Emmett and the girl – Tanya, it seemed – were posing together, his arm wrapped around her shoulder. She was looking up at him, smiling widely, her eyes soft and adoring. His eyes were focused on the camera, a lazy grin on his face.

"Tanya," Alice and Bella said in unison. The next picture was of them again, an action shot with Emmett sticking his Mariners hat on Tanya's head. She was laughing, her hand gripping his wrist.

"She's beautiful," I murmured, shuffling the pictures together hastily and sticking them back in their envelope. "I'm surprised he broke up with her." I caught my words immediately, looking at Bella quickly before stuffing the pictures back in their rightful home. I amended my statement, adding, "They looked like they really liked each other in the pictures."

"She's a really sweet girl," Bella replied, her eyes finding mine in the rearview mirror. "It just wasn't meant to be."

I looked between her and Alice, who was turned in her seat, her elbow propped on the middle console. If I couldn't get the information out of Emmett, maybe I could eke it out of Alice or Bella. "Why?"

"You can't force something to be there that isn't," Bella explained. "And I think he saw that what he needed wasn't with Tanya. It was amicable, though. She was upset, but he was kind about it. He always is."

I balked at that. "Always, huh? Does this happen often?"

"No," Alice cut in. "Like I said last night, he dates but he doesn't _date_. Tanya was the first girl that he's made a concerted effort with in quite awhile. But…" she trailed off, shrugging, and looked at Bella. "I don't know, you've talked to him more about it than I have."

Bella shifted slightly. "That's basically the gist of it."

I nodded and gnawed on my lip, looking out the window. I thought about what Bella had said; that you couldn't force what wasn't there. I wondered which side of the equation I fell on, the one resisting, giving up when it didn't quite fit or the one trying to find something that didn't exist.

I was quiet until we reached Ben and Angela's house in Port Angeles, a quaint Craftsman-style home nestled amongst tall pine trees. Bella and Alice had dominated the conversation and I'd contributed only where I needed to, my mind too full of static to be any kind of conversationalist.

My phone rang just as we pulled into the driveway and I dug in my purse for my phone.

"You guys go ahead, it's the office," I said. God knew what Garrett wanted now. I was almost afraid to answer.

"We'll just be a sec," Bella replied, hopping out of the car.

"You okay?" Alice whispered. That seemed to be her mantra to me since I got here and I didn't know how to respond. What kind of answer could I possibly give when I didn't know the answer myself?

I settled for vague. "Sure. I just need to take this."

She nodded and hopped out of the car, dashing up the sidewalk to catch up with Bella.

"Hello?" I answered the phone, watching Alice thread her arm through Bella's.

"How's it going up in Dawson's Creek?" Garrett asked, sounding mildly amused as always.

"Very funny," I replied dryly. "To what do I owe the pleasure of this call? And make it snappy."

"I needed to talk to someone who doesn't end every sentence in a question, like Bree does? It's so annoying that I want to stab myself in the ear with a pencil?"

I snorted. "You're an ass."

"_And_," he drawled. "I also wanted to make sure you were okay."

I looked out the window to where Bella and Alice were now standing with Ben. Bella said something, gesturing toward the car and Ben stooped down, catching sight of me. He raised his hand in a wave, curiosity written on his face. I waved back and then faced forward, sighing.

"Okay is such a relative term, Garrett. Okay as in I have all of my limbs? Or okay as in I don't feel completely emotionally drained?"

"So, I take it you saw Edward," he mused.

"Yes," I sighed.

"And?"

"It was weird," I replied. "And exhausting. And I don't know what the hell I'm doing here, so thanks for your advice on Monday."

"Oh hey, have you ever heard of this little thing called free will?" he shot back. "It's kind of amazing, actually. It's where you get to make decisions based on your own discretion. I really think it'll change your life."

I rolled my eyes and we sat in silence for a moment. "Are you done?" I asked.

He sighed. "Yeah, I think so. I'm having trouble getting anyone else to put up with my sarcasm. Even Kate seems to have reached her quota for the week, and you know how high her threshold is."

"She's a saint," I agreed, smiling to myself.

Kate and Garrett were the epitome of a perfect fit. They met in an elevator of all places, after it'd gotten stuck between the sixth and seventh floor of the apartment building they both inhabited in college and Kate had panicked. She told me over drinks one night that Garrett had distracted her with jokes and stories that were so elaborate she still wasn't sure they were true. She said that her heart had been racing out of her chest from fear when they'd first gotten stuck and from possibility when they'd finally been rescued an hour and a half later. It was one of those things, she said, that you thought was a myth until you experienced it for yourself, when you met someone and you looked into their eyes and all you could see was your future.

Garrett's voice cut into my thoughts. "So, did you get it all figured out?"

"Get what figured out?"

"Whatever you went up there for," he replied in an ever-suffering tone.

I sighed again. "If anything, I feel like I have less figured out than I did on Monday."

"Listen, Rose –"

"Ugh, you've got your Dr. Phil voice going."

"Just shut up and listen to me," he said. "I've got a meeting with Carmen in five, so I'm going to make this quick."

"Miracle," I muttered.

"Smart ass," he shot back, then cleared his throat. "Listen, you made this decision. You bought the ticket, you traveled all that distance, you're there now…." He was trying to lead me somewhere but I stayed stubbornly quiet. He paused, then prompted, "Right?"

"Right," I responded grudgingly.

"So, just get it done. If you want to make amends, make amends. If you want to say goodbye, then by all means, have at it. But don't complicate what you need to do. Figure it out and then do it. Don't come home without the closure it's _ridiculously_ obvious you need."

"He's getting married, Garrett," I replied, my gaze going to Bella again. It looked like they were wrapping things up with Ben. "I think that's the ultimate closure."

"Don't be stubborn, Hale. Give yourself a chance."

I frowned. "A chance to do what?"

"Shit, I don't know. I think that part's up to you," he replied. I bit my lip, playing with the edge of the envelope the pictures were in.

"Um, Garrett?" I heard Bree ask. "I have a question?"

"You have to go," I stated with a sigh.

I could practically feel the annoyance permeating off of him. "Uh huh. They should really pay me more for this. Have fun at the Creek."

I was sticking my phone back in my purse when Alice and Bella got back to the car.

"Sorry, Ben was feeling chatty today," Bella said as she slid behind the driver's seat, starting the car.

I leaned my head back against the headrest. "That's okay, I just got off the phone."

"Who was it?" Alice asked, turning as much as her seat belt would allow.

I smiled to myself and shook my head reluctantly, looking back out the window as we started toward town. "I think it was the voice of reason."

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**A/N: Happy Monday! **

**Endless thanks as always to hmonster4 for continuously pushing me to do better and keeping my motivation going. Repayment will come in the form of a leopard-print Snuggie. :) Lots of love to LightStarDusting and LoreliD as well (and as usual), both for their support and letting me bombard them with pre-reading duties. **

**Finally, I just want to say that I think I might have the best readers around. I know everyone says that, but it's true in my case. Or rather, in _your _case. It still kind of blows my mind to see the insightful reviews that come in, to see people alerting and favoriting and clicking on my story. So, thank you, thank you, thank you. **

**And _finally_ finally, see you next week. :)  
**


	8. Ch 7: Falling Out of Trees

**Because I love you guys, I thought I'd post a day early. Happy Valentine's Day (or, conversely, Singles Awareness Day)!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

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Forks had been my entire world growing up. Forget 6 billion people, the population of my earth consisted of a few thousand. I was cocooned within the town limits, comfortably safe in everything I'd ever known and thought I could ever possibly need.

But there came a point when I realized that life existed beyond the small town I grew up in. I was young, maybe eight, and Esme had taken Edward and me to Port Angeles for the day. We'd walked down the main drag, the day stretched lazily in front of us. Edward had moaned and groaned every time Esme pulled us into a shop, pacified only when he was fed lunch and then later when she bought us ice cream. We'd shared a sherbet cone, Edward's favorite, and I remembered how sticky my hands got, how I licked every melted drop from my fingers.

I'd been to Port Angeles plenty of times with my parents, but never to the pier. My mom had a fear of water so I'd never really been taken anywhere near a body of it, not even to First Beach down in La Push. My eyes went wide when I realized where we were headed, my hand clutching Esme's. We got there just as the sun started going down and curled up on a bench together. I gazed out at the water, my eyes probably as wide as saucers. I was seized by the enormity of the ocean, by the beauty of the oranges, pinks and purples painted across the surface of it. The world felt boundless in that moment. It felt vast and huge and full of possibility. It was at the same time thrilling and terrifying, too much and not enough. I'd been scared of the size of it, though I didn't know why. All I _did _know was that I'd never felt safer than I did when Esme packed us back into her car. The small space was more manageable to my overwhelmed mind, the familiarity of Edward sitting next to me a soothing balm. Still, I thought about the pier and that water all the way home.

It was the same feeling I got years later when Alice and I would sneak out of my house and meet Edward and Jasper at the nearby golf course. We'd lie in the grass and stare up at the sky, sometimes laughing and telling jokes in hushed tones so we wouldn't get caught. Sometimes Alice and Jasper would sneak off to make out and it would just be Edward and me lying next to one another in silence. It was then that I'd let my mind go. I'd imagine myself floating away into the inky depths of the sky, just disappearing, and I'd have to sit up suddenly, press my feet flat against the ground with my hands over them so that I knew I was still there.

I always thought of that moment, of the first time I really saw the ocean, when I came to Port Angeles. That was when my perspective stretched and grew for the first time, too, when I realized that the world was so much bigger and at the same time so much smaller than I could ever imagine.

I was thinking of it now as we made our way to the bridal shop after grabbing lunch at a sandwich place a few doors down. Alice had picked chips off both my and Bella's plates as we ate. Despite what we'd come here to do, there was no talk of the wedding. Bella asked me questions about San Francisco and my job and Alice told her about Jasper getting kicked off the cable car when they'd visited in May because he repeatedly rang the bell that announced each stop. I'd laughed along with the story, desperate for some sort of normalcy during what was an otherwise really fucking weird day – God, a weird _week_ – but it felt a little stilted and forced.

I was trying to relax, but it was strange being around Bella, particularly after finding out she knew had happened between Edward and me, and worse still, what I had done. Alice said she understood, but what exactly was it about the situation that she understood? And how did she understand it when I wasn't even sure _I _did?

I longed for the sensation of just drifting away now, but I was too weighed down by all of the emotions coursing through my body. I had a feeling my heart was too heavy an anchor for the kind of lightness I needed to do that.

"This shouldn't take long at all," Bella said, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I opened my mouth to reply but caught sight of a storefront out of the corner of my eye and stopped short. "Do you mind if I meet you? I just want to go in here really quick."

Alice was halfway in the door but leaned back out, reading the sign before looking at me curiously. "Ice cream, really? We just ate."

My hand was already gripping the doorknob and pulling it open. "I just want to look at something. I'll see you in a minute."

I stepped inside the small store, a tinkling bell announcing my entrance. It looked exactly the same now as it had nearly twenty years ago. Clear glass jars lined shelves along the walls, filled with candy. Silver scoops gleamed underneath the overhead lights. I walked slowly down the aisles, my hand brushing over the jar that held the gummi worms, Edward's favorite, and the jawbreakers, which had always been my candy of choice, not necessarily because I enjoyed the flavor but because I was always determined to finish one without giving up and chewing it.

I could almost see the two of us now, our hands clasped between us as we wandered the aisles, Esme trailing behind us. I felt like I was following the memory of our friendship as I made my way up and down each aisle.

It hurt to remember these things, the moments where we were happy and things were so simple, but it seemed that they were impossible to forget.

I finally made it to the ice cream case and peered inside. The sherbet ice cream stood out against the other flavors and I pressed my thumb against the glass, right over its tag, with a small smile.

"Can I help you, honey?"

I looked up to see a woman walking in from the back room, deftly tying her apron. She slid in behind the counter and strolled over, eyeing me expectantly.

"No, that's okay…" I trailed off, gazing around uncertainly.

"Just browsing?" she asked with a smile.

I let out a little laugh. "No, I used to come here when I was little. I was just curious to see if anything had changed, I guess." I paused, running my knuckle over the cold glass once more. "It looks pretty much the same. You still have the same ice cream flavors."

"Some things never change," she said.

I gave her a weak smile and looked down at the bright swirl of ice cream below me, her words reminding me of what I'd said to Alice just two days ago. It was ironic that those were the words I'd uttered right before _everything_ had changed.

"Would you like to try a sample?" she inquired. She winked at me as she grabbed a small plastic spoon. "It's on the house."

I shrugged. "Sure."

"What flavor, sugar?"

My finger went immediately to the sherbet. She started to reach down just as I caught sight of the tub next to it. "Wait," I said. "Can you do the rocky road instead?"

"Sure thing," she replied. She pulled back a spoonful and handed it to me.

"Delicious," I hummed through my mouthful of ice cream. And it was. The sherbet had been the obvious nostalgic choice, but the richness of the chocolate ice cream melted on my tongue and slid smoothly down my throat, satiating a craving I didn't even know I had.

"It's my favorite flavor, too," she said conspiratorially.

I stuck the spoon in the miniature trashcan on top of the counter. "I should probably get back to my friends. Thanks for the treat."

"Anytime," she replied with a wave. "Come back soon."

I nodded, though I knew I wouldn't. "Take care."

Bella and Alice were just coming out of the alterations shop when I got outside, a garment bag draped over Alice's arm.

"Do you really think I need a new dress for the rehearsal dinner?" Bella said, her brows knitted together, as I walked up to them.

"You don't _need_ one," Alice replied, shooting me a quick, warm smile before turning back to Bella. "You have that pretty navy strapless dress that would work. But if you _wanted_ an excuse to buy a dress –"

"When have I ever wanted an excuse to buy a dress, Alice?" Bella interrupted with a soft snort.

"- There's really no better occasion," Alice plowed on. "Plus, Threads is right next door and it's the only place that sells anything acceptable in the entire county."

"What are you guys talking about?" I asked, my ears perking up at the mention of a rehearsal dinner. I hadn't even thought to expect any wedding-related festivities beyond the actual event. But then, why would I? I hadn't thought to really expect _anything_. I'd come into this whole thing blind. The dress that I'd packed had been a last-minute addition, a painful reminder of the reason I was breaking the silence that had fallen over Edward and me, and I'd barely looked at it as I zipped it up in a garment bag.

"Oh," Bella started. "We're having a rehearsal dinner Friday night at Esme and Carlisle's house."

I looked over at Alice. "And I need to wear a dress?"

"No, not at all," Bella replied, placing her hand briefly on my arm. "It'll be pretty casual, so you can wear whatever you want. I just thought that since…well, since Edward and I are hosting it, I wanted to wear something a little nicer."

I nodded. "Is there a rehearsal, too?"

Bella shook her head. "No rehearsal. Edward and I asked Carlisle to marry us and we've gone through the ceremony with him a couple of times, so we didn't think we needed it."

I felt a wave of relief wash over me. I wasn't sure I'd be able to make it through their vows once, let alone twice. That relief was tempered by the squeeze of my heart, though, hearing that Carlisle would be the one to marry them. It made sense; Edward had always been incredibly close with both of his parents, particularly his dad, and I could understand why he'd want him to be a part of such an important moment. But it was just one more sign that Bella was so fully rooted into Edward's life, and that I hadn't been here to see how those roots had grown and strengthened.

Once again, I couldn't help the hurt that welled up inside of me, the anger at Edward. I wondered if I'd ever come to terms with him leaving me out of this. The information was somehow harder to swallow coming from anyone other than him.

"Should we go next door?" Alice spoke up, resting her palm against my elbow. I hoped I wasn't showing my obvious discomfort, though the air was thicker now, a little tenser.

Bella shot Alice a look that was probably not meant for me to see, but I caught it regardless. It was a look of worry and, I feared, pity. I breathed evenly through my nose, in and out and in and out, focusing on that task instead of the irritation and embarrassment that was rising in my chest. God, the last thing I wanted was for Bella to feel sorry for me, especially when I was here to see it. I didn't want to bear witness to it, however well intentioned it was.

"Let's go," I replied with a final deep breath. "I certainly don't need an excuse to shop."

"That's my girl," Alice said with a wide smile, weaving her free arm through mine. I rolled my eyes but couldn't stop my grin.

Alice and I had always bonded over our love of shopping and clothes, an unapologetically female trait we both possessed. Half of our major heart-to-heart talks had occurred over the sound of hangers screeching against clothing racks. I knew it was something that she and Bella didn't share and I was secretly relieved that only I had that with her, however superficial it was.

We followed Bella into the store and I couldn't help noticing the accidental grace with which she held herself. It was almost as if her legs moved at their own accord, the rest of her surprised when they got her to where she needed to be without incident.

I knew Edward loved to tease her about her tendency toward clumsiness. Emmett had even tried to implement Grace as a nickname for her, though that never caught on quite as spectacularly as Barb. Then again, she took it in stride, whereas I fought my moniker (and would continue to fight until my dying day), which probably only egged everyone on more.

A perky saleswoman appeared out of thin air, a smile stretched across her face. "Good afternoon, ladies! Can I help you find something?"

Alice's phone pinged and she rifled around in her bag, pulling it out. "God damn it, Greg. I swear to God," she bit out when she illuminated her screen. The saleswoman flinched, her smile dropping minutely. "Ugh, I'm going to call him. I'll be right back."

We all watched her stalk out of the store, five foot nothing full of fury, before the saleswoman turned back to Bella and me. Bella tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, darting a glance at me before turning back to her. "I think we're okay. We're just looking for now."

"Let me know if you need any help," she replied smoothly and then she was gone. She'd disappeared just as quietly as she came.

"Is it just me or did that woman just vanish into thin air?" I said out of the corner of my mouth, lest she be hovering silently nearby.

Bella laughed and then covered her mouth with her hand, looking around. "I feel like she could be lurking anywhere."

"I know, it's very disconcerting."

Our quiet laughter mingled and then faded simultaneously as we realized that it was just the two of us. I ran a hand through my hair and let my eyes wander around the store. I almost hoped that the saleswoman would pop back up again and save us before things got uncomfortable. I could already feel it settling in around us.

"Rosalie, I wanted to tell you –" Bella started, stepping forward a bit.

"I think I see a dress over there," I interrupted, pointing blindly at a spot across the store. "I'll just be…." I waved my hand uselessly. "Over there."

"Okay," she said quietly. She absently turned to the nearest rack and started moving hangers around, her hair falling like a curtain around her face.

I hurried away, my heart beating fast. I felt like I'd just narrowly averted disaster. I didn't need to hang out with her every day to recognize the earnest glint in her eyes, the worried set of her mouth. She had been about to launch into something serious and I had a feeling I knew what that something was. But I didn't think I was ready to face why she was being so kind to me when I wasn't sure I deserved it.

God, when had I turned into such a coward? When had my refusal to hear things that I might not like turn me into the type of person that ran away instead of facing it head on? Was I really that delusional and stubborn?

_No, _a tiny voice in the back of my mind that sounded disturbingly like Garrett said. _You're just that scared._

I wandered blankly to the other side of the store and stopped in front of a rack of dresses. What did one wear to the rehearsal dinner of the unrequited love of her life? Black was out for obvious reasons, and I didn't want to be that girl anyway. I _wasn't_ that girl. Despite the heaviness in my heart, the turmoil swirling around in my head and the things that had yet to be resolved, I hoped that I could be happy for them by the time this was all over. I knew I wouldn't be healed, not completely, but I was tired of mourning for him. I was tired of grieving for what I'd never have. Or really, for what I'd never had in the first place.

I pushed the dark dresses out of the way and grabbed a yellow one, resolved. And by the time I made my way to the dressing room, my arms were laden down with a veritable rainbow of dresses. It wasn't much, nothing more than a tiny baby step in the right direction, but it was something.

The stealthy saleswoman met me at the entrance of the dressing room and let me into one of the stalls, hanging my dresses up for me.

"Let me know if you need anything," she said, silently closing the door behind her.

"Maybe a sanity check?" I mumbled under my breath.

After stripping down to my underwear and bra, I plucked a raspberry pink cotton dress from its hanger and stepped into it, zipping it up from the side. I gave it a cursory glance and then quickly unzipped it.

"You can go right in there, miss," I heard the saleswoman say as I hung the dress back on its hanger.

Bella's voice replied, "Great, thanks." There was a clatter and then, "Oops, sorry, I'll get that."

I stilled on instinct, staring at my reflection as my eyes got wide.

"Oh – are you – do you have it?"

There was more ruckus and then the sound of a door opening. "Yeah, they're just kind of…tangled. No, no, that's okay. I'll just take them into the room."

"Let me know if you need anything," the woman replied, sounding like a broken record now.

Shit, we were going to be in here alone, weren't we? I almost wanted to think of a bullshit question for the saleswoman, just so she wouldn't leave me to fend for myself.

"Rosalie?" Bella called out as if on cue. "Are you in here?"

"Guilty as charged," I replied, clearing my throat.

"So, you heard my brush with grace then, huh?" she laughed.

"Yep. You'd never be able to sneak up on anyone, that's for sure."

"I don't know, Edward's got that selective hearing thing going on," Bella replied. "If he's listening to music, I could be coming at him straight on with a knife and he wouldn't notice."

I rolled my eyes, thinking of all the times I'd barged into his room when we were younger and he'd be lying on his bed or sitting in his chair at the computer listening to music. I'd always scare him half to death despite announcing myself. "God, what is that? It's like he blacks out or something."

"I don't know. Just one of his many quirks, I guess."

I hummed in agreement, wondering if he had any new ones that I didn't know about. I'd known all of them when we were younger – the phase he went through when we were nine and he'd refused to eat anything but macaroni and cheese with apple slices, how he always read magazines from back to front, his obsessive need to organize his CDs by genre and artist.

It was strange talking to Bella about him. It was so hard to reconcile the Edward I had known, the one I had grown up with, had been best friends with and loved, with the man that was going to marry Bella on Saturday. I knew they were the same – logic told me as much – but they felt so different. Maybe they _were_ in a way.

We fell into silence and it quickly grew oppressive and heavy. Bella had obviously decided it wasn't a good idea to bring up the elephant in the room again, but it lurked in the corner regardless.

I pulled another dress off its hanger blindly and took a deep breath. God, maybe it was just better to get it over with. I couldn't take much more of this awkward silence before I completely lost my mind. And since I was basically naked, I wouldn't be able to make a run for it. That would have been completely obvious, anyway, wouldn't it?

I cleared my throat and shifted from foot to foot, wondering how to nonchalantly start the conversation I was fairly certain Bella had tried to initiate out in the store. I opened and closed my mouth once, twice. I could feel the irritation welling up inside of me, the need to just spit it the hell out. Finally, I did. "Can I ask you a question?"

There was a short pause and then, "Of course."

"How…" I trailed off and swallowed. I was glad for the barrier between us. The wall of the dressing room lessened the intensity of what I was about to ask. "Alice said you understood what happened, and I just…I don't understand how you could."

There was a rustle and then a soft sigh. "Did you ever get to meet my friend, Jacob?"

I frowned, unzipping the yellow dress and stepping into it. It was insanely feminine, made of a lightweight pale yellow eyelet fabric that skimmed nicely over my curves. I appraised my reflection in the mirror as I said, "I think I met him a few times."

"Jake and I were really close as kids. We'd always hang out when I visited Charlie for the summer and I'd cry like a _baby_ when I had to leave at the end. It was actually embarrassing." She laughed and I did, too, more to show her that I was still listening than that I found it humorous. I had no idea where she was going with this and it was making me nervous. "For all intents and purposes we were best friends, even though we only saw each other three months out of the year. And when I moved back to Forks the summer before my junior year, we pretty much picked back up where we left off. Only it was different. It was like…I don't know. I could tell he thought of me differently. And I started thinking about him differently, too, at least a little bit. He was still my friend, but I guess I could see the possibility of something more than that." There was a pause and she said quietly, "Are you okay hearing the rest?"

"Yes," I responded, equally as quiet. I had an idea of what was coming now.

"But then I met Edward and…" she trailed off. I could see her shift from foot to foot underneath the dressing room stall. I pressed my fingers to my chest, trying to stave off the ache that was growing there. "Jake had a really hard time with it. We didn't talk for a long time because he thought I had led him to believe that there could be something between us and then just dumped him when Edward came along. And honestly, I was so caught up in my feelings for Edward that I _did_ neglect my friendship with Jake. I had to make amends for that. And I had to make Jake understand that just because I'd fallen in love with someone else didn't negate our friendship. It didn't mean that he wasn't important to me anymore, because he was. He'll always be."

"And did he?" I choked out. "Understand, I mean?"

"Eventually, yeah," she replied. "He'll be at the wedding on Saturday with his girlfriend, Leah." She must have felt the weight of my silence because she continued on quickly, "I mean, he came to terms with it before he even met Leah. Leah wasn't the catalyst for his acceptance by any means, and I'm not saying you need to…"

"It's hard to imagine," I said after a moment, adding silently_,_ _Loving someone else_.It was impossible to imagine, actually, and I wasn't sure I wanted to try.

I knew she understood my meaning, even if I hadn't explicitly come out and said it. But if she was upset by my words she didn't show it. Then again, why would she be? She was marrying him on Saturday. She was confident in the foundation of their relationship. It didn't matter how I felt about him, it mattered how he felt about _her_. "So, I have some perspective, I think. I understand that you held it in for a long time and that you were in pain, especially that night. I understand that sometimes you have to put yourself on the line knowing that it might not work out. And as for the kiss…I don't think you would have done that under any other circumstance, Rosalie."

I sat down on the small stool in the corner of the dressing room and closed my eyes with a sigh. Would I have done what I did if it weren't for the fact that I was exhausted with grief, that I was desperate not to lose everything that had mattered to me? I wasn't sure. I hoped that I wouldn't. I'd never been the type of girl to entice a guy into cheating on his girlfriend, and that certainly wasn't what I'd been trying to accomplish that night, despite what it might have looked like. Words had just failed me. It was a knee-jerk reaction, a last-ditch effort to see if there would ever be even a glimmer of possibility for us. And I'd seen the answer in his eyes even before he'd whispered it.

The answer had always been no.

So when would I be able to let it all go and move on? I so desperately wanted to get to that point. I wanted to be okay with this, because it was happening whether I was ready for it or not.

"It's not my place to say anything, because this is really between you and Edward, but he's had a very tough time with all of this," Bella's voice sounded closer than it had a moment ago and I wondered if she was just on the other side of the wall. "I think you should know that."

I snorted. "It doesn't seem like it."

"I know it doesn't. He's…stubborn." She laughed and this time I joined in earnest. _Stubborn_ was the understatement of the century. "But I think it might clear some things up if you talk about it."

I shook my head, though I knew she couldn't see me. Talking about it would just make me remember what I wanted to forget. "I'm not so sure about that."

Alice's voice drifted in just then, ending our conversation. I sighed, quietly relieved that I'd made it through, even if it had been cut short.

"Just treat her with kid gloves, she's a little nervous. Okay, thanks Greg. Talk to you soon." There was a pause and then a loud huff. "Jeez, what an idiot. Hey, are you guys in here?"

"We're here," Bella called out just as I opened my mouth to respond.

"Did you find anything?" she asked.

"I think I'm going to stick with the navy dress," Bella replied. "None of these look very good on me."

"I doubt that," Alice tsked. "What about you, Rose? Did you find anything?"

I glanced at my reflection again, smoothing down the fabric of the yellow dress. "I think I might have."

"Well, don't tease me. Get out here."

I opened the door and stepped out. Bella poked her head out of her dressing room and both she and Alice let out murmurs of approval.

"Ooh, it's gorgeous, Rose," Alice said with a wide grin.

"It fits you perfectly," Bella agreed, nodding. "Are you going to get it?"

I shrugged and looked down for any sign of a tag. I finally found it, miniscule thing that it was, and my jaw dropped. "Holy shit, it's $200! Yeah, there's no way."

"Hey, that's what credit cards are for, right?" Alice piped up, running her hand along my side reverently. "It's so pretty. It would be shameful if you didn't get it."

"Wow, and you're in finance?" I said, smacking her hand away. She smacked me back with a mock-irritated huff. "I think my credit card is going to hate me if I buy this."

"Would you wear it again?" Bella asked, slipping back into her dressing room.

I turned to look over my shoulder at the back of the dress. It _did _fit pretty perfectly. "I don't know, I guess I could find something to wear it to."

"You only live once," Alice coaxed.

I rolled my eyes, though my resolve was slowly breaking down. "Listen, just because you're small enough for it doesn't mean I need you as the devil on my shoulder, Brandon."

"Your short jokes are _so _stale," she shot back. I wrinkled my nose at her and stepped back into the dressing room to change.

A phone rang and I heard Bella rifle through her purse. "Hello?" Her voice went soft. "Hey. Yeah, I think we're just about done here. Rose just has to pay for her dress. Uh huh. Yeah, of course it is. What are you doing?" She let out a laugh and called to us, "Emmett lost his ball in a water hazard and is trying to fish it out. They're making bets on whether he'll fall in."

I snorted. "God, they need handlers."

"That's what Carlisle's for," Alice replied.

"Edward just said Carlisle upped the bet to $20," Bella called out.

"So much for that theory," I sing songed, pulling on my jeans and shirt. I exited the dressing room, yellow dress in hand. Bella came out a few seconds later, juggling her bag in one hand and her phone in the other.

"Uh huh. Yeah. Okay, we'll leave after this. I'll see you back at your parents' house in awhile?" She ducked her head down and to the side and said softly, "I love you, too."

I turned quickly to Alice, trying to ignore the way my heart dipped, and held up the dress. "I'm going to go pay for this."

She nodded. "We'll meet you out front."

I left Threads ten minutes later and $200 poorer, bag clutched in my hand. Bella and Alice were standing just outside, laughing.

"What's so funny?" I asked as I came up to them.

Alice pulled out her phone and held it up to me. I narrowed my eyes to read the text across the screen.

_Emmett fell in. Found out about the bet. Hiding in bushes with Edward. Emmett is wet and has a goddamn golf club. If you don't hear from me, I'm dead. Love you._

"Jesus, they're like overgrown children," I said and then paused thoughtfully. "Do you think Emmett is going to kill them?"

"Doubtful," Bella replied with a wave of her hand. "He's probably in the bar with a beer, laughing at them."

I nodded, caught off guard by how familiarly she spoke of him. Was she close with him too? It would stand to reason, I supposed, since she seemed to be so closely bonded with the rest of the group. I didn't know why the thought made me uneasy, though, or what the little niggling feeling in my chest was. I tried to shake it off as we starting walking back to the car, but I couldn't help but wonder what else I didn't know about the relationships that had been built and strengthened while I was gone, what other small moments and connections I had missed.

"Oh, by the way," Bella said once we'd made it to the car and had gotten settled in. I leaned back against the seat and we started down the road. Bella turned to Alice. "Edward and I still need to talk to you about investment options. He keeps nagging me to bug you about it."

Alice flipped on the radio and rolled down the window simultaneously. "You can tell Edward that I'm not doing anything for him until he takes back his 'glorified fortune teller' comment."

"That was Emmett!" Bella laughed, turning down the radio. "Can you hear back there, Rose?"

"Yeah, just fine," I replied.

"Okay, that's not true, I distinctly remember…" she trailed off thoughtfully.

"You distinctly remember, huh?" Bella challenged, her voice thick with amusement. "After three glasses of wine? Is it coming back to you now?"

"It kind of sounds like something Emmett would say," Alice coughed. "We'll set up some time after you get back from the honeymoon, then."

I leaned forward slightly, my curiosity piqued. I couldn't even begin to guess where they'd chosen to have their honeymoon. "Where are you guys going?"

"We're going to Turks and Caicos. We were going to do something more low-key, but my business is starting to really pick up and Edward's going to be really busy at the hospital, so we thought this might be our last chance to do something big before life gets really crazy."

"That makes sense," I murmured. "A honeymoon only happens once. Might as well make it count."

"It'll be _amazing_," Alice said. "One of my co-workers just got back and she was so relaxed. It wore off after half a day, but still."

Bella and Alice continued to talk about the trip – the activities Edward had booked for them, proper sun protection (did they make SPF 300?) – but I tuned out, watching Alice's hand cut lazily through the wind, up and down, up and down, and thought about everything that had happened today.

God, what was it about this place that made me reconsider everything I thought I knew? Today had been revelatory in some ways, between this morning with Emmett, my phone call with Garrett and my conversation with Bella. I had that same feeling I'd gotten when I stared out at the ocean for the first time, that sense of being in the midst of something much bigger than myself, of it all being too much but not being able to stop myself from experiencing it. There was so much that I had yet to figure out and it scared me to think that this could be just the tip of the iceberg.

We pulled up to the hotel a little less than an hour later and Bella set the car into park, turning back to me.

"Thanks for coming with us, Rose," she said. Alice rubbed my knee and gave me a small smile.

"Thanks for inviting me," I replied, opening the door. "I had a good time."

"So, we'll see you later, right?" Alice asked, looking over at Bella. "What time?"

"Around six?" Bella guessed with a shrug. "I'm going over early to start cooking with Esme, though, so feel free to come by earlier than that if you want."

"Six is good," I said. "I'm a little tired, anyway. I think I need a nap." Maybe I could get my brain to shut down then. I was tired of thinking so much.

"I was wondering," Alice responded. "You were quiet back there."

"Well, you kept me up half the night and then woke me up at the ass crack of dawn."

She rolled her eyes. "Since when is 9:30 the ass crack of dawn?"

"Since I had to be woken out of a deep slumber to you singing 'Shoop.'"

Bella let out a laugh. "Jeez, Alice, is that your go-to morning song or something?"

"She's done that to you, huh?" I asked, wondering how many sleepovers they'd had. The thought made me inexplicably sad.

"Hey, everyone needs a little Salt N' Pepa in their lives. I'm sorry that I have to get up at the _real _ass crack of dawn every weekday. My body is synced to it now."

I snorted, sliding the rest of the way out of the car. "Okay, Boiler Room. I'll see you guys in a few hours."

I slipped inside the door of my room, waving to them before I shut the door. Bella honked, two short staccato beeps, and I went to the window and pulled back the curtains slightly to watch as they backed out of the parking space. They were smiling and laughing and I felt a pang in my chest.

I dropped my purse and shopping bag on the ground and lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, my feet planted flat against the comforter. I didn't have to worry about drifting away, though; my body was heavy with exhaustion, anxiety and a strange sense of anticipation. I hadn't seen Esme and Carlisle since last winter and I didn't know what to expect when I saw them. Then again, I hadn't known what to expect with anything here, so that shouldn't have been a new feeling for me. But they had been my second parents growing up and I didn't want it to be weird. I wanted to feel like I belonged there. I wanted that sense of home to envelop me, as it always had in the past when I'd walked through their door. God knew I needed that right now. I didn't know where else I'd be able to find it.

I closed my eyes, hoping that sleep would find me quickly. It didn't take long; I sighed once and then blackness swallowed me whole.

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**A/N: I'll continue to say it every week (even if she gets tired of it) – hmonster4 is the one who makes everything you read here better. I couldn't do this without you, H, so thanks. :) LightStarDusting and LoreliD are my great friends and pre-readers. Thanks for continuing to put up with my craziness. **

**I'll be back to the regular posting schedule next week, where we'll meet back up with everyone for dinner at the Cullens' casa. Yum. :)  
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	9. Ch 8: Stop This Train

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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I pulled up to the Cullens' home not long after six, my fingers wrapped tightly around the steering wheel, my heart pounding with anticipation.

My eyes scanned the driveway, noting Carlisle's Mercedes and Esme's Jaguar. Edward's car was just behind Esme's. I'd seen Jasper's parked haphazardly along the curb in front of Alice's house when I'd passed by, but all the windows were dark so I had to assume they were here, too. That made me the last to arrive, not unusual for me. My internal clock had always been set 15 minutes behind everyone else's, but I hadn't necessarily wanted to be the last one to walk into a house I hadn't set foot inside in over a year.

Shit, if only I hadn't fallen asleep. I'd woken up in the darkened room, disoriented, and raced to change into a pair of shorts and a fitted button-down shirt. I'd hauled ass over here, not that my rush made any difference. They'd probably been hanging out for quite a while and I'd once again be showing up when things were in full swing. I was nothing if not consistent.

I got out of the car and shivered as the cool night air hit my bare legs, looking up at the sprawling white house that had once been a sanctuary for me. Though Alice's home had been the place where we partied, Edward's was the place where we all congregated, where we had barbeques and movie nights, where Edward tried (and failed) to teach me piano, where we'd run around in the backyard as kids, climbing trees and collecting pine cones. It was the same backyard he'd captured my heart in all those years ago amid a haze of weed and words that I didn't even know I'd always wanted to hear from him, though the realization had come too late.

I'd never believed in ghosts, but it was impossible to ignore their presence in this town. They were all around me, following me and forcing me to remember. And the hardest part was that the good memories co-mingled with the bad, with the hurt. I didn't know which was more painful, remembering how happy I was here, how happy my friendship with Edward had made me, or remembering how everything had slowly drifted away from me. Or perhaps how _I_ had slowly drifted away from everything.

At one point, I'd planned on staying here. I was going to follow Alice, Edward and, by default, Bella to UW. But those plans had changed and I couldn't help but wonder sometimes what my life would have been like if I hadn't decided at the last minute to go to USF instead. Would we have traveled the same path, Edward and I? Or would I have let go a long time ago?

I let out a sigh and started up toward the front door. I raised my finger to the doorbell – strange, I'd never had to do that before – but the door swung open before I could get to it.

"I was wondering if you were ever going to come in," Emmett said.

I squinted suspiciously at him. "Were you spying on me?"

"What was there to spy on?" he asked, cocking his head to the side. "You were standing in the driveway staring off into space. Not exactly scintillating material there, Rose."

"I was just…" I trailed off, shrugging as I stepped inside the foyer. "I haven't been here in a while. I was taking it in, I guess."

He nodded, his eyes thoughtful as they roamed over my face. "Well, you're just in time. The food's about ready."

"Great. Hey, we match," I pointed out, running a finger along the sleeve of his button-down shirt.

"Well, isn't that cute?" he replied, stepping in front of me. He reached for my wrist and popped open the bottom button with the flick of his fingers. "You need to roll up your sleeves like me, though."

His fingers brushed the inside of my wrist, grazing the sensitive skin of my arm as he rolled my right sleeve. Goose bumps erupted in a trail behind his touch and he met my eyes curiously. "It's getting cold outside," I said in response to his silent question. "I, uh, didn't bring a sweater."

I breathed evenly through my nose and thought of hot places as he went to work on the other sleeve. "I'm surprised you got out of the one this morning, what with the small holes and all," he said with a grin.

I rolled my eyes, but kept still while he finished, my eyes trained on his hands and how nimbly they moved, on the corded muscles working subtly in his forearms. "Very funny. It's amazing how men can turn just about anything into a sexual innuendo."

He stepped back and admired his handiwork, then flashed me his dimples. "What can I say? It's a gift."

"Oh good, you're here," Alice said, coming into the foyer. She was barefoot, her hair pulled back into as much of a ponytail as her bob would allow. "Dinner's just about ready."

"Hey, am I still banned from the kitchen?" Emmett asked.

"Yes, and probably for forever," she replied, smacking him in the arm before turning to me. "He was trying to eat all of the cookie dough."

"I didn't know I couldn't eat it," he said defensively.

"Cookie dough isn't meant to be eaten, Em."

"Dreyer's tells me differently," he shot back.

She pointed a stern finger at him. "Hey, watch it or you'll get banned from the cookies, too."

He crossed his arms and puffed out his chest, towering over her. "I'd like to see you stop me, Brandon. I could destroy you with the flick of a finger."

"Someday they'll invent a growth serum and you'll all be sorry," she muttered, turning on her heel and waving her hand. "Come on, I think everyone's in the living room."

We made our way through the foyer and down the short hallway peppered with tasteful pieces of art and black and white photos. I took in the photos of their family over the years, of Edward and me as kids, as well as more recent ones of him with Bella. I could smell something mouth-watering coming from the kitchen, could feel Emmett right behind me, a strange electricity rolling off of him and onto me, and I resisted the urge to tuck myself against him. As we got closer to the living room, I could hear voices and laughter.

"Rose is here," Alice announced unnecessarily as we turned the corner. Jasper, Edward and Esme were all sitting down and everyone turned and called out greetings in unison. I smiled as Esme jumped up from her perch on the arm of the chair Jasper was sprawled out on, her arms open wide.

She pulled me into a tight hug and I rested my cheek against her hair, reveling in the familiar feeling. She'd always given the best hugs and I remembered how I'd demand one every time I came over when I was little. I breathed in her perfume, gardenia and jasmine, the same scent she'd worn since...well, since forever. "I'm so glad you're here, sweetie."

"Thanks," I murmured, squeezing her back before reluctantly letting go. "Me, too."

"How's your mom?" she asked, holding onto my hand as I leaned in to accept a kiss on the cheek from Carlisle, who had just walked in from the other room.

"She's doing well," I replied. "She's done with physical therapy and walking on her own. She gets tired pretty easily, but her doctor said that's to be expected."

"That's great news," Carlisle said with a smile. "Send them our best, of course."

My eyes went to Edward automatically and our gazes locked before he looked down at his feet, stuffing his hands in his pockets. I could see the guilt written on his face and I turned back to Carlisle with a small smile. "I will. They send their love, too."

I had to wonder just how much Edward had told his parents about what happened between us. It was obvious from the knowing glances they shot Edward that they were at least somewhat aware. How could they not have been? Carlisle had seen me at the hospital after Edward and I had fought. I'd been, if possible, even more beside myself. He hadn't said anything to me when he found me in my mom's room, sobbing uncontrollably, the scratchy hospital sheets catching my never-ending tears. He'd just laid his hand on my head and stood with me while I cried. We didn't say anything. He offered no platitudes, no empty words of promise that neither of us were sure he would be able to keep. His silence had been all I needed, the slight pressure of his hand against my hair a source of comfort. And though he had to have wondered about Edward's noticeable absence at the hospital, he said nothing. A few days later when my mom was stable enough to be moved, she'd been transferred to a hospital in Seattle and a couple weeks after that, down to a facility in Arizona. I hadn't seen Carlisle or Esme since.

They had never been ones to pry and I should have known they wouldn't make it awkward for me. The last bit of tension coiled in my shoulders melted away and I let out a steady stream of air through my nose.

"You look great, honey," Esme murmured, squeezing me around the waist. "You've been missed."

"Really?" The word was out of my mouth, barely whispered, before I was even aware I'd said anything.

"Really," she stated in an equally low voice with a kind smile that made my heart squeeze.

I nodded, silently wondering how she knew that, what she had seen or heard that would confirm that the empty space I'd left here had remained that way, and noticeably so.

Bella came into the living room, wiping her hands on a paper towel. "I think everything's ready to go." Her eyes landed on me and she smiled widely. "Hey, you're just in time."

"Typical Rose, waltzing in after all the work's been done," Jasper said, hoisting his lanky frame out of the chair.

"Like you lifted a finger?" I scoffed, flipping him off when Esme and Carlisle weren't looking.

He returned the favor, then smiled innocently when Esme turned her attention back to us. "I was an integral part of the grocery store excursion, I'll have you know."

"And you bitched the entire time," Edward snorted.

"So did you," he shot back, punching him in the arm.

"Ow, you dead-armed me, you fuuuu…" Edward trailed off, but recovered quickly, darting a glance at Esme. "You shithead."

"I would have preferred fucker, Edward," Esme said, wrinkling her nose.

"_Mom_," Edward said, scandalized.

"You said it first," she shrugged, winking at me.

"Can we eat now?" Emmett asked. "Or is this all just an elaborate ruse to slowly starve me to death?"

"That would take weeks, bro," Jasper replied, patting him on the back.

Emmett patted him back, hard. "Don't project your body issues onto me, Whitlock. I tried to talk you out of the scone." He turned to Bella. "Hey Grace, did you make something low-fat for Oprah over here?"

"Sorry, Jazz," Bella laughed. "You'll have to make do with meat and potatoes."

"Oh, no, that's fine. I'll be working it off on the courts tomorrow when I wax these guys," he replied, jerking his chin toward Edward and Emmett, who both let out snorts of disbelief.

"It's like they never left, isn't it?" I heard Carlisle murmur to Esme.

"Just what I was thinking," she replied. I looked back at them just in time to see Carlisle plant a soft kiss on her mouth and I turned away quickly, embarrassed to have caught them during such a private moment. I was always awed by how two people could shut the rest of the world out like that. How it was possible for them to forget everyone else in the room, to look at one another like they were the only ones there. It was the same thing I'd seen with Alice and Jasper, and certainly with Bella and Edward. There was something especially poignant about seeing it with Carlisle and Esme, though, maybe because they were still so in love after all these years. Their love had grown steadily, had deepened considerably. There was something beautiful about seeing the light in Carlisle's eyes when he looked at his wife as if he were seeing her for the first time, despite the fact that he'd woken up to her nearly every morning for the past however many years.

_God, I want that_, I thought, looking down at my clasped hands. I ached for it.

We finally made it to the dining room and settled in, Emmett plopping down on my left side, Carlisle at the head of the table on my right. We _ooh_ed and _ahh_ed over the spread Esme and Bella had prepared. The table was beautifully set up, a fresh vase of vibrant pink roses sitting in the middle, encircled by food and small flickering tea light candles. Bella explained every dish as the plates were passed around – an iceberg wedge salad with crumbled egg, bacon and blue cheese dressing to start, followed by horseradish-encrusted filet of beef, grilled asparagus, smashed potatoes and crusty French bread.

Carlisle set a napkin in his lap. "It's too bad Charlie couldn't join us tonight. This looks amazing."

"Oh, it's okay. He and Sue have had these dinner plans in Port Angeles for a while. We'll swing by the house later and drop some leftovers off, though," Bella replied with a smile. "I'm sure he'll gorge himself on it."

"Speaking of gorging…" I started as I turned to Emmett. He was piling his plate high with potatoes. I noticed that there were a measly three asparagus stalks representing for the vegetable family. I nudged him with my elbow. "Did you work up that appetite before or after you fell into the water on the golf course?"

"Okay, for the record, I didn't fall all the way in. It only went up to my knees," Emmett replied. "The tales of my demise have been greatly exaggerated."

"The only reason you didn't do a belly flop into that thing is because Carlisle grabbed onto the back of your shirt," Jasper said.

Emmett turned to Carlisle with a wide grin. "Thanks for that, Dr. C."

"I guess I should say the same to you, since you ended up saving me from falling in, too," Carlisle replied, chuckling. I marveled silently at Edward's resemblance to him. They had the same aquiline nose, those aristocratic features and crooked smile.

"Jeez, Em, leave some for the rest of us," Bella said as he added another heaping spoonful to his plate.

"You were supposed to make me my own, remember?" Emmett replied with an innocent grin.

Bella's eyes widened. "I thought you were joking when you suggested that."

"Food is the one thing I don't joke about, Swan," Emmett stated, pointing his fork at her.

"Seriously, don't mess with Emmett and his food." Edward leaned forward to look at Jasper, placing his elbows on either side of his plate. "Do you remember the time I accidentally ate a slice of his pizza?"

Jasper looked thoughtfully at him for a moment, then burst into laughter. "Oh, god, when was that?"

"Our first year at U Dub. I think it was one of the first times we all really hung out with you, McCarty," Edward replied.

I looked down at my plate, pushing my potatoes around until it vaguely resembled a heart. It was yet another trip down memory lane, and one I couldn't participate in. I had to wonder again what would have happened if I'd decided to stick with my decision to stay at UW. Would I have been able to laugh with them over these random memories, or would I still have fractured off from the group? I knew that the physical distance between them and me had been my doing, but it didn't hurt any less to be faced time and time again with what I'd missed. It made being here with them now that much more difficult. Part of me wanted to get up and leave, to run away so that I didn't have to deal with the reality of my changed role here, but I stayed rooted in place instead.

I felt a bump against my left knee and started, looking over at Emmett. His gaze was focused on Edward, a small smile playing on his lips, but he must have felt my eyes on him because he turned to me and murmured a hushed apology.

"Dude turned into the Incredible Hulk right before our eyes," Jasper said.

"I was drunk and hungry," Emmett replied with a shrug. "I'd been dreaming of pizza all day, dude, and you took that dream away from me. I may have overreacted with all of the yelling, though."

"Jesus, understatement of the century. I've only been on the receiving end of that kind of food-related anger from Rose," Edward said. My eyes flew to his and narrowed dangerously and he _giggled_. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

Of course I did. It'd been Valentine's Day our sophomore year of high school and Tyler Crowley had brought me a small Tupperware container with two cupcakes in it. He'd tried to pass them off as his own creation, but I knew it was beyond his skill level to make icing hearts as perfect as the ones that had garnished the top. I'd left them in my locker to take home and eat later – Tyler's mom was the star of school bake sales for a reason – only to find an empty container when I came back to them at the end of the day. Edward's locker had jammed somehow so he'd been using mine until they fixed it, and I knew he'd probably shoved them in his mouth as soon as he'd seen them. I'd gone ballistic, furious that he'd just taken them without asking, especially when they'd been a thoughtful, delicious present from a marginally cute guy.

"I can't believe you'd even bring that up, considering I almost murdered you when I found out what you did."

"I thought they were for me!"

I gave him a dubious glare. "Right, which is why the note that read 'To Rosalie' on the front was scrunched up right next to it."

He haughtily stabbed at a piece of steak. "It was lying next to the cupcakes when I opened the locker and I didn't want to read it. It seemed like a private note."

"You're unbelievable," I snorted. "You just didn't _want _to read the note because you didn't want confirmation that they were mine. Guilt by ignorance is still guilt, Cullen."

"Hey, I tried to make it up to you," he shot back. "And what did you do? You threw the Hostess cupcakes at my head."

There was a brief moment of silence as his statement sunk in. I felt my cheeks start to burn, vaguely recalling lobbing the pathetic, lardy excuse for cupcakes at him when he'd brought them to my house later that night.

Surprisingly, it was Carlisle who broke first, though he tried valiantly to cover up his laughter behind his fist. There was a snort from the general vicinity of Alice, which set Jasper off. I could hear the low rumble of Emmett's laughter next to me, and saw Bella lean back in her chair, her hand over her mouth.

"You threw a package of cupcakes at his head?" Alice exclaimed through her laughter, leaning on Emmett's shoulder.

"I was mad!" I exclaimed, setting my fork down and collapsing back against my chair. Covering my face with my hands, I peeked at him through my fingers. "I forgot I did that."

"It didn't hurt that badly. Only minor brain damage," Edward replied with a lopsided grin.

"That explains a lot," Emmett quipped.

Edward broke off a chunk of bread and tossed it at him. Emmett raised his fork loaded with potatoes in retaliation.

"Don't even think about it," Esme warned, her eyes traveling pointedly from the fork up to Emmett. He smiled innocently and stuck the fork in his mouth.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Es."

"Oh, sweetie, speaking of food," Esme said, turning to Bella. "I talked with the caterer today and she wanted to get double confirmation on the menu. I've got the print-out upstairs that we can look at after dinner."

"Sounds good," Bella replied, and then looked sideways at Edward with a small grin. "Three more days."

"Three more days," he repeated lowly. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed each of her knuckles quickly, then rested their intertwined hands next to his plate. I looked back down at my now mostly-eaten meal, shaping and reshaping what was left of my potatoes.

"Is there anything left to do?" Alice asked, leaning forward. "I feel like we've just been bumming around."

"That was the point of this week, Alice," Bella laughed. "We took care of everything ahead of time so we wouldn't have to worry about last-minute stuff." She smiled over at Esme. "Well, Esme took care of everything."

Esme waved her off. "It was my pleasure. What kind of future mother-in-law would I be if I didn't lend a helping hand?"

"According to everything I've heard about mothers-in-law, an extraordinarily good one," Jasper joked.

Esme winked at him and then turned back to Bella. "Just let me know if there's any last-minute things you need done. There's not much time left."

_There's not much time left_. The phrase repeated in my mind over and over again like some sort of ominous warning. I could feel a strange sense of panic rising in my chest, and I got up suddenly, my knee hitting the edge of the table with a painful _thwack_.

Everyone turned at the noise and Esme looked over at me, her hand outstretched as if she could reach me. "Ouch, that must've hurt. Are you okay?"

_Sure, it perfectly matches the pain in my chest_, I thought. "Yeah, I was just going to take my plate into the kitchen."

"No, no, leave it," Esme said, waving her hand at me.

"What happened to your rule?" I asked, thinking of all the times Esme had gently enforced her 'if you eat off of it, you clear and clean it' rule. "Have you gone soft on me?"

She shook her head, her honey blonde hair sweeping gently around her shoulders. "No, but tonight you're a guest and the rule doesn't apply to guests."

My stomach clenched at that. I didn't _want _to be a guest. I wanted to fall back into my role here, for Esme to sneakily assign me chores like she used to do when she'd 'suggest' Edward and I take out the trash or vacuum the entire living room after we'd spill popcorn on one square inch of the floor. I wanted the familiarity. I craved it so badly it hurt.

"It's fine, I need to get water anyway." I grabbed my glass and plate and then stopped, noticing the pitcher of ice water sitting near Alice for the first time. "Or milk, actually."

"Okay," Esme replied with a slightly confused smile. I couldn't blame her; I'd never been so willing to clear my place at the dinner table growing up. But now the routine meant something. Now it was a reminder of things long past, and I didn't want to lose it just yet.

I took the familiar route to the kitchen and let out a long sigh as soon as I crossed the threshold, grateful to be alone. In all the madness of the past couple of days, I'd almost forgotten what was happening on Saturday. The conversation at the dinner table brought it back with stunning and painful clarity. It made it too real, and I needed to give my heart a moment to recuperate.

I'd just put my dish in the sink when I heard a noise behind me. I looked over my shoulder quickly as Emmett sauntered in. He grabbed a cookie from the plate sitting on the island and then came to stand next to me, his jeans-clad leg brushing against my bare one.

"How are you still eating?" I asked, looking sideways at him. I watched as he devoured it in two swift bites. His tongue flicked out to catch an errant crumb resting precariously at the edge of his bottom lip.

"It went into my dessert pocket," Emmett replied, rubbing his stomach.

"Your _what_?" My eyes drifted down to follow the movement his hands splayed out flat against the soft brushed cotton of his shirt and I blinked once, twice before meeting his gaze again. One corner of his mouth drifted up into a lazy half smile.

"My dessert pocket," he repeated, walking over to the towering plate of chocolate chip cookies. He wiggled his fingers over it thoughtfully before plucking a perfectly golden one off the top. I turned, resting my backside against the sink.

I raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to know what that means?"

"Patience, grasshopper," he said with a grin, coming to stand right in front of me. The proximity of our bodies, the way our chests, hips, thighs were so close, was a little dizzying and my hands lightly gripped the edge of the counter. It was insane the level of electricity buzzing between us and I wondered if it had always been this strong and I'd just never noticed it, or if something bigger had occurred to make it so incredibly palpable.

He broke the cookie in half and I watched a few crumbs fall down the small space between us. His mouth opened, sending my attention to his full bottom lip. I didn't know where to look first or last or really at all, and I felt a pull low in my belly. "A dessert pocket is a little compartment in your stomach where only desserts go. So, even if you're full from a delicious dinner, like tonight's for instance, you still have room for a bowl of ice cream." He held up the cookie. "Or a cookie."

"I think that's just you," I replied with a swallow, unconvinced.

He shook his head. "Not true. Everyone has one. You have one."

"I do not."

"Don't sound so indignant, Rose," he laughed. "The dessert pocket is a gift. Don't shun the dessert pocket."

I rolled my eyes and shifted slightly, my knee grazing against his leg. "I'm not shunning the dessert pocket. I don't have one."

"Do me a favor," he started, popping half of the cookie in his mouth. I watched the muscles in his jaw work as he chewed, that half-grin quirking his mouth. "Try one bite of this cookie so I can prove my theory."

"What? No way. I want to puke just looking at it."

"Come on, Hale, just one bite," he cajoled, batting his lashes at me. He danced the cookie in front of me and I grabbed his wrist, my fingers immediately finding the thumping pulse underneath his skin. His eyes flickered down to my hand and then back up at me. They were warm, a little heavy-lidded, the soft embers of gold flecks illuminated underneath the track lighting.

"One bite," I conceded, not releasing my grasp, my eyes locked with his.

He smiled full stop and my heart shuddered in response. "You ready for this?"

I wanted to laugh – how exactly was I supposed to respond to that? – but then he was making ridiculous plane noises, twisting and turning the edge of the cookie until it was right at my mouth. I opened up and took a bite, all too aware that his hand was gently cupped underneath my chin and his eyes were focused on my mouth.

"Mmm," I hummed dryly.

"See?" he replied with a proud grin. "Dessert pocket."

"Very scientific."

His gaze drifted back down to my lips and he sucked in his bottom lip, laughing lowly. "You have some, uh…" He lifted his free hand, the one that didn't have my fingers still wrapped around it, and brushed his thumb against the edge of my mouth. I froze, my lips parting slightly, my grip tightening around his wrist. He pulled back, showing me the chocolate now smudged along the pad of his thumb. "I didn't get it all, you should probably…"

He trailed off as my tongue darted out to get the rest of it. "Did I get it?" I asked in a voice that didn't sound entirely like my own. I cleared my throat.

"Yeah, it's gone," he murmured.

"Uh, hey."

Edward's voice cut through the tension between Emmett and me and I looked over to see him standing in the doorway of the kitchen, several plates stacked in his hand, a curious look on his face.

"Hi," I replied, panic causing me to whirl around to face the sink. I felt rather than heard Emmett step away from me. All the warmth that his body had been emanating was gone now. I looked over my shoulder to see him rubbing the back of his neck, agitated, and then looked at Edward, who was still standing at the door, alternating his confused gaze between me and Emmett and back again.

I picked up a glass and rinsed it blindly, willing my heart rate to slow. Between what had just happened between Emmett and me and having Edward be the one to interrupt it, I was fully expecting it to just give up any second.

"What's up, man?" I heard Edward ask.

There was a long pause and then a deep sigh. "Oh, nothing," Emmett replied, sarcasm sharpening his voice. "Is everyone still eating?"

"Just finishing up."

Emmett cleared his throat. "Right, I guess I'll head back out there then."

"Hey, take a cookie for the road, since you got banned from them earlier."

I felt all of the blood drain from my face at that, thinking of the way Emmett's thumb felt against my lip, of the tangible electricity between us. I felt the pull of my body to his from across the room now, setting me on edge.

The blood returned full force, flooding into my cheeks as Emmett spoke. "No, I think I've had enough."

It was quiet after Emmett left and I breathed in and out evenly through my nose, willing my body to return to a normal temperature. After a minute, I heard Edward's slow footsteps, but kept my eyes trained on the sink. I didn't want him to see how shaken I was and I knew that if I looked at him, he'd see it written all over my face. He stopped right next to me, the sleeve of his t-shirt brushing against my arm, and placed the plates in the sink in front of me. I picked one up, scrubbing vigorously at the remnants of food stuck to it.

The silence was heavy around us, oppressive, but he didn't say anything, just took the plate from my hand when I was done washing it and stuck it in the dishwasher. I hazarded a glance at him and saw that he was watching me, his eyes dark and serious.

"Why are you staring at me?" I asked self-consciously.

"Your face is all red," he replied after an extended pause. "I'm just not…you're not really the blushing type."

"I'm not blushing," I argued, feeling my face grow hotter.

He tapped my nose and I pulled back, smacking his finger away. "Your nose is growing."

"Knock it off," I growled, running the first plate under the water and handing it to him to stick in the dishwasher. We worked quietly like that for all of thirty seconds before he spoke up again.

"Did I interrupt something back there, Rose?"

His voice was piqued with question and something else. Was it surprise?

"No," I replied, hazarding a glance at him. His face was serious, his eyes dark. "Don't push it, okay? You're not exactly the person I want to talk about this with."

"I'm not pushing," he shot back uncomfortably. "It just caught me off-guard. I'm not really used to seeing you like that."

My eyes narrowed at his choice of words. "Like what?"

He opened and closed his mouth, seemingly at a loss. "I don't know," he finally said slowly. "Interested?"

I looked back down at the sink, gnawing at the inside of my bottom lip. It probably _was _strange for him, considering he hadn't had much visibility to my love life. He was probably used to thinking of me in the singular sense because for the most part I'd always been alone, particularly around him.

"It was just…whatever," I mumbled, tucking my chin against my chest. I didn't want to say it was nothing, because that's not what it felt like. But at the same time I couldn't say it was anything else. It was new and scary and I wasn't sure I was ready to face it just yet. So the last thing I wanted to do was discuss my emotions regarding Emmett with Edward when I wasn't even ready to discuss them with myself. "Can we just drop it? You know I hate talking about shit like this with you."

_Especially after what happened between us_, I thought. I didn't have to say it. It hung in the air between us, almost tangible. He swallowed, still watching me with a bemused look on his face, and then shrugged.

We stood silently for a few minutes, me rinsing the dishes and him sticking them in the dishwasher. It was something we'd done numerous times after dinners here and I was surprised at how easily we fell back into it, how these little habits of our friendship had survived even when our actual friendship had crumbled.

He started laughing and I looked over at him suspiciously. "What are you giggling about, Cullen?"

"I was just thinking of the time you tried to make chocolate chip cookies."

The memory came to me quickly and I snorted, covering my mouth with my wrist. "Oh, my god, and we completely destroyed the kitchen."

I remembered the day clearly. I'd decided that I wanted to make chocolate chip cookies for a bake sale the dance team was putting on during the Homecoming game. I'd come over after school, knowing Esme would have all the supplies that my mom definitely wouldn't. I'd figured out halfway through the process that I had about as much skill in the kitchen as my mom, and had completely lost it when Edward started making fun of me for my lumpy cookie dough, contemplating out loud the probability of my cookies giving people food poisoning.

"_We_? You threw flour in my face, Hale. Any destruction that occurred was all you."

"Oh please, you threw it back!" I shot back, looking sideways at him. "And look me in the eye and tell me you weren't going to crack that egg over my head."

His eyes widened with faux innocence and he placed his hand over his chest earnestly. "I would never."

"You're lucky Esme walked in when she did," I replied, pointing a knife at him. "If you'd done that, you would be dead right now."

"Jesus, how mad was she?" he laughed. "You were so scared. I've never seen you cower like that."

"She's scary when she's angry!" I exclaimed, nudging him with my elbow. "You were freaked out, too, admit it."

"I was scared shitless, are you kidding?" He laughed again, shaking his head. "We've gotten ourselves into a lot of trouble over the years, Hale."

I bit my lip, wondering if he realized just how true that statement was in so many ways. "We certainly have." I looked down at the now-empty sink and shook my waterlogged fingers. "I think we're done."

He shut the dishwasher door and flashed me an unreadable look. "Yep."

"Thanks for helping me," I said.

"Hey, I haven't forgotten my role," he replied. "I'm still the dish loader at home."

That statement shouldn't have hurt, but I couldn't help the way my heart dipped into my stomach. I could feel my face fall and it took me just a split second to arrange it back into place, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes that let me know he saw it anyway. I hadn't caught myself quickly enough.

It was just another reminder of how he'd moved forward and how I'd stayed stagnant, stuck in the past. He'd made a new life with Bella but I couldn't forget my old one with him.

"Hey, Rose…" he started and then faltered, stepping forward slightly.

"Let's get back to everyone else, huh?" I said, wiping my damp hands on a dishtowel. "We've been gone for a while."

He pursed his lips, appraising me, and then shrugged. "I guess."

We walked out of the kitchen and past the illuminated back porch. I stopped short, surprised to see Emmett and Bella out there leaning against the deck railing. Bella was looking up at him, her brow furrowed, as he talked and gestured. His expression was serious, his shoulders slumped.

"What's that about?" I asked.

"Hmm? Oh, they wander off like that sometimes," Edward replied, backtracking until he was standing next to me. "They've gotten pretty close lately."

"Yeah, I've kind of noticed that with everyone," I muttered, feeling that sense of betrayal – or was it jealousy? – rising in my chest. It was the same feeling I'd gotten when Alice hadn't denied that Bella was her best friend last night. And I knew it was irrational, but I couldn't help the anger I felt knowing that she'd replaced me in every way that mattered.

We passed by the window, which was cracked open slightly, and I slowed my pace, my ears perking up.

"…say something to him?" Bella's voice drifted in.

Emmett shook his head slowly. "No, not yet."

"Rose, come on," Edward said in a low voice, seeing my hesitation. "No eavesdropping."

"It's not eavesdropping if the window's open," I retorted, but I reluctantly trudged over to where he was standing a few feet in front of me anyway. "Besides, don't you ever wonder what they talk about? Or does Bella download you after every conversation?"

"No," he replied definitively. "I don't ask. If he wants to tell me something, he can, but he's got a different kind of friendship with Bella. I think he tells her the stuff he can't even tell me and Jazz."

"Like what?"

"I don't know, Rose. Stuff that only girls can understand, apparently. Why are you so curious about it?"

"I just didn't know they were best friends forever now," I replied, my tone acidic.

His eyes and voice were sharp. "Don't, Rosalie. She's allowed to be friends with them, too."

I clenched my jaw and crossed my arms, looking away. I knew I probably looked like a petulant child pouting over a stolen toy, but I didn't care. Despite the kindness and understanding she'd shown me, I was having a hard time reciprocating, at least internally.

It wasn't that she wasn't allowed to be friends with everyone. No, it was that she so effortlessly filled the space that I'd left. It was that I couldn't hate her, even though I resented her to some extent.

But mostly it was that I felt like I could disappear and I wouldn't even be missed.

There was a soft click and equally soft voices and both Edward and I turned toward the sound to see Bella and Emmett slipping in from the back porch. They stopped short, identical looks of surprise on their faces.

"Hey," Edward said, all of the jagged edges in his voice gone now.

"Hey," Bella replied, her eyes going from Edward to me and back again. Emmett's gaze remained on me, steady and serious. I shifted under the weight of it, feeling exposed. I felt like he could see right through me.

Bella sidled over to Edward and he weaved his arm around her shoulders, tucking her protectively against him.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, looking up at him questioningly.

"Yeah, we were just coming to find everyone," Edward replied.

A silence descended on us and I focused my attention on a picture of the six of us hanging on the wall. It was from my last trip up to Seattle, the summer before everything had happened. We'd spent the day wandering the city and had asked our waiter at a tiny waterfront café that I couldn't remember the name of to take our picture against the backdrop of a beautiful sunset. I was leaning into Alice in it and smiling widely, though it didn't reach my eyes. I remembered feeling the beginnings of what I felt now, like I was a part of the group and also separate from it. If only I'd known what was in store from me six months from then.

"Hey, kids," Carlisle said, strolling into the hallway, his hands in his pockets. He stopped, raising an eyebrow at us. The tension surrounding us was obvious and palpable, but while I knew he felt it, he plowed on. "Esme is revoking your guest statuses and wants help clearing the dining room table. Do you mind?"

"No," we all said in unison, though my voice took on an almost desperate edge. I took off ahead of them, making it back to the dining room in record time. I wanted out, and now. I needed to get back to my hotel room so I could get away from this feeling, even for a while. It was too exhausting thinking about all the ways things had gone wrong for me, all of the ways in which I'd failed myself.

Alice tried to corner me a few times while we cleaned up, but I expertly sidestepped her each time. I stuck close to Jasper instead, letting him unknowingly distract me with sarcastic quips and his egregious overuse of my nickname. I was all too aware of Emmett at every moment, the proximity of his body in relation to mine. It was so unnerving being that in tune with him, having to fight the powerful pull I felt. And for once I was glad at how wrapped up Edward tended to get in Bella; beyond a few lingering glances, his attention was on his fiancée.

If anything, I'd sleep well tonight. This day had been too long, too fraught with emotion, and every part of me was tired. I could feel it in my bones, burrowing deep down into my cells.

Finally, _finally _it was time to say good night. We all congregated by the front door and Esme pulled me into another tight hug, whispering how glad she was that I was here. Carlisle planted a soft kiss on my forehead and said he'd see me on Friday. Emmett leaned against the open door, flashing me his dimples, his eyes dark and somber. I returned his smile, though it was as pathetic an excuse for one as his, and then stepped out into the cool night air.

"See you tomorrow?" Alice questioned, her hand clasped in Jasper's. Edward and Bella were two steps behind us and they stopped in front of the Volvo, looking over at me. I kept walking until I reached the driver's side of my rental.

"Yeah, just call me whenever," I replied, too tired to ask for details. I was desperate for my pajamas and a soft pillow.

Alice stood on her tiptoes and gave me a peck on the cheek. Jasper gently pushed against my jaw with his knuckles and winked, and then they sauntered off into the night, crossing the street to Alice's house.

"'Night, Rose," Bella called with a small wave.

"'Night," I called back, my eyes flickering to Edward. He paused as Bella climbed into the passenger seat, his face partially shrouded in darkness.

"Good night," he said, his low voice carrying on the breeze.

"Good night," I echoed. I got in the car and backed out of the driveway, driving back to the hotel in silence, alone.

I completed my nightly routine through sheer force of will, not even bothering with pajamas. Instead, I stripped off my shorts, out of my shirt with their sleeves still rolled up, and crawled into bed, shutting off the bedside lamp.

And suddenly I was wide awake. I felt more alone now than I had since I got here. I knew what it was like for this hotel room to be occupied by more than one body and I felt small now. It was too silent, too empty.

I reached over and grabbed my phone, opening up my text messages. I stared at the screen, the only light in the otherwise dark room, before typing out three words.

_Are you awake_?

My thumb hovered over the send key and I gnawed on my lip, torn. What good would this do, besides temporarily soothing the lonely ache spreading in my chest? And what did I expect Emmett to do, come over and comfort me? Tell me everything was going to be okay? At this point, chances were good that they weren't, that _I _wasn't. And if that was the case, I wanted to fall apart alone.

I rolled over onto my back, thinking of that night eight years ago when Emmett and I had kissed. I'd almost believed in that moment that I could forget walking in on Edward and Bella making out in a dark bedroom unbeknownst to them, that I could banish the argument Edward and I had gotten into afterward when he'd accidentally spilled beer on my shirt and I'd flipped out. He didn't know then that my anger wasn't over the lukewarm liquid seeping into my shirt, but rather that I wanted to punish him for not loving me, for choosing _her_. He'd reacted instinctively to my anger with anger of his own because we knew no other way. All it took was one small flame for the other to ignite and then we'd both been on fire. Emmett had dragged me away, drunk and tearful, furious and defeated, had sat with me while I cried and then pretended that I wasn't crying over Edward. I'd felt that tangible electricity between us then; it was palpable even through my pain, and I'd wanted everything else to go away.

_I want it to be you_, I'd thought, letting my eyes roam over his face and take in his beautiful gold-flecked eyes that could never decide if they were blue or green, the straight, strong lines of his nose, his brow, his jaw, the perfect cupid's bow of his top lip.

And when my lips touched his and his hand went into my hair, I'd almost believed that I could forget Edward himself. We'd collided so fiercely that I'd seen bursts of white light behind my eyelids. But I was either so transparent or he so perceptive, because he'd pulled away. He'd laid me bare when he told me that he wouldn't be the guy I used to get someone else out of my head. Or more accurately, out of my _heart_. It was harder that way, wasn't it? You had to go through a wall made of bone and flesh, of muscle and emotions so deep-seated that it would take years – God, how many more years? – to erase.

"You idiot," I remembered choking out to my reflection, watching my tears fall one after another after another. "Why can't you get over him?"

I knew now that it wasn't about getting over Edward, like Alice had said last night. But I wasn't sure I could let go. Would I fly or fall if I relinquished my hold on him? I was so afraid of falling, of having nothing to catch me if that happened. I was just afraid, so terrified of what would happen to me when – not if – I finally allowed myself to give him up.

My thoughts drifted back to Emmett at that. I didn't know what was happening between us, but I did know that I had so much to heal before I could even begin to understand his effect on me and what I wanted that to mean. I moved my thumb to the end key and dropped the phone onto the pillow next to me, curling up on my side.

I was just so tired of being alone. I wanted something more for myself, and the realization that I might not get that if I didn't let go of Edward was so painful, because _he_ had been my something more for so long. I didn't know what it felt like to love anyone else.

A tear escaped from the corner of my eye and just like I'd thought when I'd looked back at the sad girl in the mirror then, I wondered now if eventually they'd drown me.

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**A/N: Happy Monday! Hope it's going well for you all so far considering it is...*sigh* a Monday.**

**Hmonster4 makes it all better and I love her for it. LightStarDust and LoreliD are my frands and pre-readers and I love them, too. :)  
**

**Just an FYI, I've got a thread over at Twilighted: http://bit(dot)ly/d0gF7T. Stop in and say hi if you have a chance! I've been woefully neglectful of it, but I'm trying to change that. Still trying to figure out how to add hours to the day. Theories on how to achieve that are acceptable discussion points on the thread, FYI, as are manpretty pic spams of the Tom Welling/Taylor Kitsch/whoever whoever variety. Oh, and talking about this story, of course.  
**

**Finally, voting for the Indie Twific Awards has started! There are a ton of amazing stories to be found at www(dot)****theindietwificawards(dot)com. Read, review and most importantly, VOTE! A huge thanks should go to Gustariana and Hmonster4 for putting so much time and energy into this great contest that highlights lesser-known writers. \  
**

**Wait, this is the finally part - do you have a dessert pocket? Do you think this phenomenon exists or is it just a very effective flirting tool? **

**See you next week!  
**


	10. Ch 9: Shoop

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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My cell phone was vibrating on the nightstand when I got back to my hotel room Thursday morning. I'd decided to take advantage of the complimentary coffee and pastries in the hotel's lounge and was juggling something that vaguely resembled a muffin and a steaming cup of coffee when I heard the telltale ring.

"Hold on," I huffed at it, dashing over to the nightstand. I carefully set down my coffee and muffin and then grabbed for the phone. Alice's name and number flashed across the screen. "Hey, what's up?"

"Rosalie?" Her voice sounded thick and unnatural, and my brows drew together as my heart dropped. She sounded upset. Was she crying? Had something happened between her and Jasper, or maybe with Bella and Edward?

"Yeah, who else would it be? Hey, are you -"

There was static and murmured voices, followed by a pause. I could hear yelling in the background, and then she was back. "You need to hurry up and get over here."

"Where's here? Are you okay?" I asked, already striding across the room to pick up my bag. I'd thrown on shorts and a t-shirt to go pick up my breakfast, but I didn't want to waste time changing if something terrible was happening.

"I'm better than okay," she replied, her voice going thick again. I heard a giggle in the background and realized that she wasn't holding back tears, but rather _laughter_. My eyes narrowed.

"Alice, I thought something bad had happened! Don't call me sounding like you're about to tell me something horrible or I'm never going to answer your phone calls again."

"Sorry, sorry," she said contritely. "I was distracted. I'll make it up to you, but you need to get over here, like, five minutes ago."

I dug in my metaphorical heels. "Tell me what's going on first."

"But that would ruin the surprise," she sighed. "Just trust me, okay? Leave now, I'll see you in five."

"Hi, can you tell me where I might find you?" I asked.

"Oh, right. Edward and Bella's apartment. Chop, chop."

I heard a soft click and pulled the phone back to see the screen flashing. Apparently she was done with the conversation.

"Just trust me," I mimicked under my breath. I gave myself a cursory glance in the mirror to make sure I was decent. I grabbed my purse and keys and then made my way out to the car.

The drive to Edward's was quick and I pulled into the same spot I'd parked in last time not ten minutes after Alice had called. I saw her at the mouth of the path. I could hear voices and the sound of a ball bouncing against the asphalt as I climbed out of the car. Tossing my purse in the trunk, I sauntered over to Alice, hands on my hips.

"All right, show me what's got your panties in a twist."

She threaded her arm through mine and started dragging me down the path. "Funny you should put it that way…"

I stuck a finger in my ear, shaking my head. "Stop right there. You're my best friend and all, but we are fast approaching TMI territory."

"Please, like you haven't said much worse within the past 48 hours," Alice laughed, elbowing me. "And you can tell me if it's not appropriate when you see what I'm about to show you."

I looked down at her, eyebrow raised. "Why do I feel like you're trying to set me up for some huge reveal?"

She just smiled, a worrisome one that closely mirrored Mona Lisa, and continued pulling me down the path. We'd only made it a few feet when she turned to me suddenly, her brow furrowed.

"Hey, what happened last night? You seemed upset when you left."

"Oh. Oh, I was just tired," I replied vaguely. It wasn't a lie – I _had _been tired last night. But I didn't feel like revisiting the confusing knot of emotions that had been pulsing through me at the time I'd closed my eyes and fallen asleep. I'd managed to push them down and lock them away for the time being; I wanted them to stay that way for a while longer.

"Okay," she said slowly, not entirely convinced. "Are you sure?"

"Alice, yesterday was ridiculously long. Between you waking me up at the ass crack of dawn, our little jaunt to Port Angeles and dinner, I was ready to collapse. I just needed to recuperate." I shot her a dry smile. "You require a lot of energy."

"Oh, I see, it's _my _fault," she replied with a roll of her eyes. "Fine, let me make it up to you."

"Well, it's the least you could do."

We walked in companionable silence, her arm looped through mine, until we reached the court. It was surrounded by a tall chain-link fence and swathed in thick green netting and I could see sneaker-clad feet and vague outlines of bodies, but not much else.

"Oh, God, am I some surprise referee for the game of Horse Jasper was talking about the other day?" I groaned, slowing my pace and pulling out of Alice's grip.

"They're actually playing three on three right now. Edward recruited a few guys from a few doors down to play with them," Alice replied, swinging open the gate. I stayed rooted in place, arms crossed.

"There's a _Dirty Jobs _marathon on, you know. I could be watching that right now," I shot back as she stomped over and grabbed my wrist. "But _no_, you dragged me over here early so that I could hear Edward and Emmett bitch like little girls about how Jasper's big toe went over the free throw line and they haaaa…"

I trailed off when Alice managed to drag me the rest of the way to the court with her freakish sneaky strength, though my mouth kept moving. My fingers felt blindly for and finally found a bit of fence to hold onto.

"Shirts versus skins," Alice breathed next to me. "What a sight to behold."

What a sight indeed.

Edward, Emmett and Jasper were dispersed on the far side of the court, each of them paired up with one of the guys Alice had just been talking about. All I could see at first were broad shoulders and naked chests, narrow hips and taut muscles working underneath damp skin. I couldn't even decipher who was who; I hadn't made it to faces yet. I watched a strong hand clamp onto a bare shoulder, a calf muscle contract and release as a foot pivoted, two perfectly placed dimples serving as accents at the bottom of a well-muscled back and oh, _god_, I needed to sit down.

"Alice," I whispered, tapping her unnecessarily on the arm.

"I know," she whispered back reverently, her hand covering mine.

"I think I just blacked out."

"I told you," she said in a lilting voice.

I let my eyes wander up so that I could attach faces with the bodies, though I'd probably unconsciously known who was who in the back of my mind the entire time. Jasper and Edward were long and lean, well muscled but smaller than Emmett, who was tall and solid, all corded muscle and sinew and Jesus, was it hot out here? I'd seen them all shirtless before – and Jasper's naked ass more times than I cared to think about – but this was different somehow, more primal. Maybe it was the sounds, all deep grunts and guttural demands. Or maybe it was the way their skin glistened, the result of the sun hanging high above the court and the marginal heat coupled with the intensity of the game.

I didn't linger for too long on Jasper because despite the fact that I could appreciate a good-looking man as much as the next girl, he was like my brother and incest wasn't my thing. I felt slightly guilty drooling over a taken guy, anyway, particularly one who was taken by my best friend.

My gaze moved to Edward furtively at that thought. I watched as he pushed his hip against the tall, lanky guy guarding him. He clapped his hands and Emmett turned to him, deftly passing him the ball. Edward sank his shot with a gentle _swish, _his movements graceful and controlled, and then collected high fives from both Jasper and Emmett. His hair was damp around his temple and neck, dark mahogany with bits of fire running through it where sweat hadn't gathered. I bit my lip and looked away – straight into Emmett's eyes.

My stomach dropped with my gaze, which traveled down the length of his body unconsciously. His chest was moving in and out roughly, his stomach muscles contracting. I swallowed as I watched a drop of sweat trail down his chest and stomach, stopping at the waistband of the shorts sitting low on his hips.

When I looked back up, he was still watching me, an indecipherable look on his face. I looked away, feeling like I'd been caught somehow, and found Edward's gaze shifting between Emmett and me. The ball was tucked under his arm and his brow was furrowed thoughtfully. It wasn't unlike his expression last night when he'd interrupted us in the kitchen and I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. For some reason, I thought back to that night when he'd told me he loved me, how he'd said it was hard for him to share me, that he was used to having me to himself. I had to wonder if that still applied, if that was one of the reasons he'd let me hold on to him for so long, whether consciously or not. He'd openly admitted last night that it was strange to see me interested in someone, but whose fault was it that it was such an alien concept? Mine for stubbornly refusing to consider other possibilities in the past, or his for being blind to my feelings for him, for simply assuming that I'd always be there?

"Look who I brought!" Alice's voice broke through both my thoughts and the tension that had settled over the basketball court, that was threaded between Emmett and me, and that had somehow caught Edward in its web, too.

There was a disjointed chorus of greetings, not only from Emmett, Jasper and Edward, but also from the guys they were playing. One of them, a rangy blond, stepped forward, his eyes subtly sweeping the length of my body before resting on my face.

"_Good_ morning," he drawled out with a slow smile.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes and mostly succeeded but Emmett failed entirely. Alice elbowed me in the side, laughing softly.

"Put it away, James," one of his friends, a dark-haired guy with a trace of an accent, called with a laugh. Edward turned to him, a look of distaste crossing his features.

"What, I can't say hello to a beautiful girl?" James said with an innocent smile and a sideways glance in my direction.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Emmett muttered. James turned to him with a grimace.

"Oh, sorry man, is she your girl?"

"No, but that was painful to watch," Emmett replied with a dry chuckle, his eyes narrowed. "I think you should work on your delivery a bit before you try to play for the big league, kid."

"You're the big league," Alice clarified quietly. I smacked her arm and she laughed again. It was one I'd heard a million times when she was especially tickled by something.

"This is infinitely more entertaining than basketball," Jasper announced to no one in particular, watching the scene before him with his arms folded. Edward looked at him distractedly once and then more pointedly a second time, his mouth opening and closing. He muttered something under his breath and then looked down at his watch with a sigh.

James waved Emmett's comment off and winked at me. This time I didn't hide my indifference, and Emmett shot me a grin when James turned back toward his friends.

"Hey, can you guys go somewhere?" Edward asked. He nodded his head toward the bleachers and I saw Bella sprawled out there. She lifted her hand in a wave and Alice's hand narrowly missed my nose waving back. "Go hang out with Bella so we can start the game back up."

"Yeah, Rose, you're quite the distraction," Emmett added, hanging back as Edward started back toward the rest of the group.

It was ironic that he was telling _me_ that, seeing how he was standing before me in all his shirtless, sweaty, muscled glory. As if he could read my thoughts, he ran a hand over his abdomen right above the waistband of his shorts and my stomach dipped in response. I swallowed so hard that I swore it echoed and bounced off and around the court and traveled off into the atmosphere. For all I knew, people somewhere halfway around the world were feeling the tremors of my attraction in the form of an earthquake. If the butterfly effect was fully present here, it was Emmett McCarty's abs' fault.

"I think we're supposed to walk away now," Alice said under her breath, tugging my arm gently. Emmett pulled his lower lip into his mouth and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. The bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

"Yeah, yeah," I huffed, waving my arm over my head haphazardly. Alice and I made our way over to the bleachers and Bella. I collapsed down next to her, feeling unsteady, my mind slow and clouded.

"We had to share the wealth," she said by way of greeting, her dark eyes sparkling.

"That's very generous of you," I replied. Alice plopped down next to me and we all rested our elbows on the bleacher behind us, quieting down as the game started back up again.

There was something infinitely sexy about a man in his element, and the three of them certainly were here. Jasper's game had always been baseball, but he was built for basketball, too, tall and lean and long limbs, able to block shots effortlessly. Edward was much the same, but his gift came from his speed and his ability to anticipate what his opponent was going to do even before _he _knew what he was going to do. He was everywhere, his muscles working seamlessly underneath his skin, his eyes sharp and dark with concentration.

My eyes were drawn constantly drawn back to Emmett, though, watching the way he worked the ball, how he maneuvered his body around the guy guarding him with grace and confidence. I remembered being in awe of him when I'd see him on the football field in high school. I was always able to pick him out right away; I didn't even have to seek out the number emblazoned on the back of his jersey. He was always right in the middle of the action, tall and full of explosive power.

"God, this is like girl porn," Alice sighed, her head lolling in my direction. "I for one did _not _know Emmett had such a naughty body."

"Alice!" I exclaimed, though my eyes darted to him once again to confirm that he did, in fact, have a naughty body.

"It's true," she said matter-of-factly. "Don't get me wrong, Jasper's is the, uh, naughtiest, but I have eyes for God's sake. And, you know, they shouldn't put themselves on a platter if they don't want us to feast."

I turned to Bella, my eyes wide. _What the hell? _I mouthed. She shook her head and laughed, leaning forward to look at Alice.

"Yes, I know that was a weird analogy," Alice said. "I'm distracted, okay? My brain cells are shutting down one by one. It's bad enough when I've got one hot half-naked guy to look at, but three? Come on."

"I almost feel badly objectifying them like this," Bella said through her laughter. I raised an eyebrow quizzically. "Hey, I said _almost_."

"I don't think they feel badly about it," Alice replied, pointing to Emmett, who was pretending to stretch while they took a water break but flexing his biceps instead.

"Please, he loves the attention," I stated, waving my arm at him just as he looked over his shoulder at us. He grinned and cocked a hip so that his ass stuck out, raising a questioning eyebrow. I shrugged teasingly, pretending to be apathetic, though I let my gaze linger on his backside after he'd turned back to the group.

"Yes, he does," I heard Bella murmur. I managed to look away from the small rivulet of moisture that was running down the dip in Emmett's spine to see that she was watching him, too, with a small, worried smile.

I frowned, wondering what had caused her shift in mood, but then the game started back up and her attention snapped back to Edward, her face serene again.

We stayed quiet through the remainder of the game, Alice's eyes trained on Jasper the entire time and Bella's on Edward, only piping up to make comments every now and then. Our random bursts of laughter would ring out across the court and they'd all look over at us with curiosity. For the most part, though, we were left to watch without interruption as they continued to play and glisten underneath the warm sun.

Eventually the guys they were playing with grew tired of getting beaten within an inch of their basketball-playing lives and called it quits. James made a point to call out a good-bye to me and Emmett mimed kicking him in the ass when his back was turned. Edward laughed, grabbing him by the scruff of his neck, while Jasper dribbled the ball between his legs. They made their way toward the bench, shoving and teasing, their laughter loud and boisterous. Alice's knee knocked gently against mine, her shoulder pressing into my arm, and I could feel Bella shaking with laughter next to me. I tipped my head back toward the sun for a second, marveling at the difference a few hours could make. Last night I had been confused and lonely, my mind awash with too many tumultuous thoughts, and now I felt connected and content. This week had been a seesaw of emotions, but I was determined to enjoy this feeling while I could.

"Boo!" Alice heckled as they pulled their shirts back over their heads, her hands cupped around her mouth.

"Hey now, don't be upset. We can still play," Emmett called out, running a hand through his damp hair. He pulled the edge of his t-shirt up and wiped his face with it. It revealed a tantalizing glimpse of bare skin, reminding me of the view I'd just lost. His eyes found mine when they finally made their way back up to his face and they were sparking again, sending a wave of energy straight into my stomach. A smile bloomed on his face. "You girls are skins, though."

"You guys really want to play?" I asked, perking up. The thought of a little healthy competition was suddenly very enticing. I needed to let off some steam.

Emmett grabbed the ball from Jasper and spun it lazily on his finger, eyebrow raised. "If you're skins, sure."

I rolled my eyes. "You're going to have to work a hell of a lot harder than that to get me naked, McCarty."

He chuckled dryly and then turned to Edward. "You want to go another round, E?"

Edward shrugged, eyeing me. "Yeah, why not?"

"No, no, no," Jasper spoke up, stepping between Edward and Emmett. "No way. Edward and Rose aren't allowed to partake in anything that involves competition, not after the Great Scrabble Blowout of 2006."

I stood and hopped off the bleachers, hands on hips. "Hey, I had a legitimate case! Erg is not a word, it's a _sound_."

"Bullshit," Edward coughed out.

"Cheater," I shot back, giving him a pointed glare as everyone groaned.

"I thought we agreed behind their backs never to bring that up again, Whitlock," Emmett sighed.

"I'm not a cheater. It fell within the guidelines," Edward announced smugly. "I'm sorry that my vocabulary is more sophisticated than yours."

Emmett grabbed onto the back of my t-shirt before I could properly launch myself at Edward's throat and his fingers brushed against the bare skin at the base of my back, stopping me in my tracks. He shook his head at Jasper. "Look what you did."

Jasper rocked back on his heels, arms crossed. "And yet you all want to play basketball with these two. I think I just proved my point."

"I can behave if she can," Edward shrugged. Everyone else looked between the two of us dubiously.

"I'm obviously capable of behaving," I replied haughtily, smoothing down my shirt and tightening my ponytail. "Thank you all for your complete and utter lack of faith in me."

"It's not about faith, Rose, it's about historical information," Jasper pointed out. "Historically, you are not known for your passive nature."

"That has nothing to do with behaving myself," I shot back.

"You're not good at that, either," Emmett said, dribbling the ball lazily in front of him. I turned on my heel, my ponytail whipping against the corner of my sardonic smile.

"And how would you know?" I challenged. He grinned back at me, equally sardonic, and the edges of my peripheral vision went hazy, blocking everything else out but that smile, his face.

"I've been paying attention," he replied before tossing the ball to Edward, who caught it against his stomach with a groan. My mouth opened and closed wordlessly and he raised an eyebrow at me, as if daring me to respond. But I didn't know how, particularly when I wasn't even sure I knew what his statement meant.

"Should we do guys against girls?" Alice asked hopefully, coming to stand next to me. Bella hopped off the bleachers, too, and made her way to Edward. He slung an arm over her shoulders, planting a kiss on top of her head, and I turned my attention quickly back to Emmett.

"Sure, if you want to get completely worked," Jasper said with a wink. "You're used to that, though, aren't you, baby?"

Alice smiled smugly and I looked sideways at Emmett, who shuddered.

"You could play left-handed," I suggested, though it pained me to grant us that advantage.

"And we'd still work you," Emmett replied easily, flashing his dimples.

I narrowed my eyes at the sureness in his voice, my hackles raised. If there was one thing I hated, it was being underestimated, and that was second only to losing. Emmett was pushing both buttons simultaneously. "I wouldn't be so sure of yourself. I could take you with my hands tied behind my back."

I didn't realize how completely suggestive that sounded until it was out of my mouth. I sucked in my cheeks, waiting for him to call me on it.

His eyes flickered down to my hands and back up again. For whatever reason, he let it slide and nodded instead to Bella, who was watching the exchange closely. "That's right, you've got Grace on your team. You're guaranteed the victory."

"Hey!" Bella exclaimed, reaching over to smack him on the arm. He shrunk away from her, laughing. "I'm not _that _clumsy."

"Do you not remember the last time we played something?" Emmett asked.

"I still have to kick your ass for that, by the way," Edward said, reaching over to punch Emmett in the shoulder, which he easily deflected.

"Soccer," Alice explained, sensing my confusion. "She had to be goalie because Emmett complained she'd be in the way otherwise and then he ended up pegging her in the head trying to make a shot."

"Well, it's a huge target," Emmett said, nudging me conspiratorially. I smiled wanly back, feeling like an outsider again. It seemed like every time I got comfortable something cropped up to remind me that I'd been gone, that I'd missed so much.

"Okay, that's it, Andre the Giant. You're going down," Bella said, poking him in the chest. He grabbed her finger and yanked her gently from under Edward's arm. He wrapped his arm around her neck, ruffling her hair, and she let out a low shriek.

"If you two could stop rough housing for a second, we might be able to get started here," I called out, sounding snappier than I'd intended. I could feel Edward's eyes on me, but I kept my gaze focused on Emmett and Bella. She whispered something to him and he laughed lowly, shaking his head. I clenched my jaw, irrationally annoyed at their display of comfort.

"Show 'em who's boss, Barb," Jasper said, sidling up to me. He slung an arm around my shoulder and I shot him a glare. He leaned down, continuing conspiratorially, "I've got to tell you, though, green's not really your color."

"Oh, shut up," I grumbled, more out of habit than anything else, then looked sharply at him as his comment sank in. "Why would I be jealous?"

"How the hell should I know?" Jasper shrugged, slipping his arm from my shoulders. He slapped me on the back with a wink. "I just saw the claws come out and couldn't resist some commentary."

"Hey, what else is new?" I said sarcastically, shoving him away with my hip.

"You love it," Jasper mouthed as he backed away.

Once everyone got settled and we were back in a loose circle, we decided to forgo guys against girls. Emmett seemed marginally put out by the loss of shirts versus skins, but volunteered to be a team captain against Edward anyway. And by volunteered, I mean they both shouted out 'captain' before I could even open my mouth, the bastards. They played three rounds of rock, paper, scissors to determine who would pick first and Emmett won in a stunning upset of scissors over paper two times in a row.

He turned to Jasper, Alice, Bella and me, tapping his chin thoughtfully as he strolled slowly back and forth.

"Any day, McCarty," Edward sighed, his eyes rolling heavenward.

"Rosalie," Emmett said finally, his eyes settling on me.

"What the Christ?" Jasper called out as I did a victory dance over to Emmett.

"Sorry, she's scrappier than you," Emmett explained unapologetically. "You're too lackadaisical."

"Unbelievable," Jasper mumbled. Alice rolled her eyes at me, rubbing his back.

"Bella," Edward said. His voice was low and intimate saying her name, and I had to look away when he leaned down to kiss her, his mouth lingering on hers. He pulled away and looked over at Jasper, who was staring at Emmett pointedly. "No complaints from you when I pick Bella?"

Jasper indicated vaguely at the two of them. "Different circumstances. I expect that from you."

"I'll pick you next," Emmett promised.

"Whatever, Judas. The damage is done."

"Jasper, you're with us. Alice, you're with McCarty and Rose," Edward spoke up.

"The hell?" Emmett argued, turning to Edward as Alice pranced over to us. Jasper sauntered over to Edward and they exchanged a low five. "It was my turn to pick."

Edward gave him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding? You would've picked Jasper, which would've made the teams ridiculously uneven. You've already got the strongest girl –" he turned to Bella, " – no offense, I love you – and you're creepily agile. I should get Jasper by default."

"Bullshit," Emmett scoffed. "You should've picked him first if you wanted him on your team."

"Or maybe _you _should've picked him first," Edward shot back, a smug grin on his face. "But hey, I know how much you like blondes."

"Guys, listen, I know I'm the second coming of LeBron, but no need to fight over me," Jasper joked, looking at Emmett and Edward and back again.

Bella stepped forward at the same time Emmett did, shaking her head minutely at him. I looked up at Emmett, the corners of his ears tinged red, and then over at Alice, who was biting at her thumbnail, her eyes worried. Edward seemed just as confused as I was, his gaze darting between Bella and Emmett, who seemed to be having some sort of secret silent conversation.

"What's going –" I began, my hand hovering next to Emmett's elbow.

"Who's guarding who?" Bella interrupted, turning to Edward.

"Huh?" Edward asked, frowning down at her. He looked up at Emmett again, and then at me, shaking his head. "Oh, uh, I'll take Em, I guess."

"I'll gladly take you on, man, but I think you know as well as I do that this is the one thing you can't beat me at," Emmett replied, his eyes flashing even as a smile spread across his face. Edward appraised him, as if he were trying to decide whether he was serious or not. I realized I was doing the same, and for once this week it felt like Edward and I were on the same wavelength. Granted, that wavelength was confusion, but it was strangely comforting knowing that I wasn't the only one who didn't know everything. Or in this case, _anything_.

"Can we play sometime today? I'm not getting any younger over here and I'd like to make it back to Edward and Bella's place in time to rule all of you on Guitar Hero," Jasper called out from the middle of the court, Alice standing next to him. They wore the same expectant looks on their faces.

"Gladly," Edward muttered, shooting a questioning look at Bella. She just smiled tightly and wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him toward Jasper and Alice.

I turned to Emmett, hoping he'd shed some light on the situation, but he had already taken off, leaving me standing on the sidelines. For some reason his absence made me feel all the more alone, but then he turned to look at me and the tension that had been evident in his eyes and face softened slightly. I could still see it in his shoulders though, the muscles bunched and coiled underneath an invisible weight I didn't understand. I had the sudden urge to make it better, to somehow take it all away.

"I picked you for your hustle, Hale," he said, nodding his chin toward the court. "Get a move on."

"Aye, aye, captain," I replied with a salute, hoping to break him out of his mood. I was rewarded with a brighter smile and the full force of it went straight through my chest, warming me from the inside out. His eyes sparked again, not out of anger or frustration, but something else, something lighter and yet equally electric. I felt it spreading in my bones, in my veins, and a grin bloomed on my face.

A pointed cough brought us out of the moment and I looked over just in time to see Bella elbow Edward in the ribs, an exasperated look on her face.

"What's the holdup?" Edward called, dribbling the ball. "I thought you guys wanted to play."

I felt a twinge of annoyance at the interruption, but pushed it down and caught up with Emmett.

We all paired up, me with Jasper and Bella with Alice, and started the game, the sun now right above us. There wasn't much communication for a while besides calls for passes and whoops of celebration when a shot was made. The game was surprisingly civil for the first ten minutes, but because we were us (or at least Emmett, Edward and I were us), the ridiculously competitive nature inevitably erupted. Emmett and Edward were the worst, in constant shit-talk mode, which Jasper was only too happy to goad on.

"Traveling!" I shouted at one point, stalking toward Edward. He stopped mid-sprint and turned to me, his mouth dropping open. "_Blatant_ traveling."

"Thank you!" Emmett called, interlacing his hands behind his head and sauntering over to us.

"I wasn't traveling," Edward shot back defiantly.

I squinted at him. "Do you know what traveling is?"

Jasper clapped a hand on my shoulder. "Take it down a notch, ref. Let's just start the play over and keep going."

"I'd love to keep going so we can kick your ass, but we get the ball," I said, turning to Jasper.

"That's ridiculous!" Edward practically shouted.

I held out my hands, my hip cocked. "No, what's _ridiculous_ is you denying that you were traveling. Give me the ball."

He made a scoffing sound, tucking the ball underneath his shirt. "I'm not giving you shit."

"I will wrestle you for that, and you know I'll win," I warned him, stepping forward. "I am fully capable of taking you down."

I reached for the ball and he grabbed my wrist, feigning boredom. Glaring up at him, I went for it again with my other hand, which he also caught easily. I rolled my hands, trying to extricate myself, but his fingers were like shackles wound solidly around me.

"Now what?" he asked, his green eyes sparkling with amusement. "You're really kicking my ass here, Hale."

"Give me the ball," I growled, trying to get at it with my knee.

Emmett stepped between us, slapping Edward's hands from my wrists. With a closed fist, he pounded down on the ball still tucked underneath Edward's shirt and it dislodged, bouncing onto the ground. Emmett stopped it with his foot and kicked it to Edward.

"Here's the ball," Emmett said impatiently, turning to me. "Let him have his way so we can move on."

"It's not about getting my way," Edward argued, picking it up and bouncing it. "It's about not giving in when I know I'm right."

I rolled my eyes. "Well, you always think you're right, so that means nothing."

"That's really funny coming from you," he said with a dry laugh, pivoting on his heel.

"We should have listened to Jasper," I heard Alice whisper to Bella.

"Are you kidding? This is priceless. " Jasper replied, crossing his arms. "I actually think I'd pay to watch this."

I shook my head, exasperated, and watched him make his way over to Bella and Alice. It was natural for us to bicker like this, for the antagonistic push and pull that we unconsciously fell into, but it didn't give me the same feeling now that it always had. I'd reveled in it before, had loved the attention it afforded me, especially after most of it was taken away when he'd started dating Bella. I'd goaded him on purpose just to see the fire in his eyes when he got irritated or angry with me. I'd mistaken that fire with the kind I saw when he looked at Bella, that spark of passion. But it wasn't the same. The heat I had always worked so hard to ignite in him was nothing compared to the kind that existed inherently between him and Bella. It was the passion of anger, not love or attraction.

I thought back to Alice's party years ago, at the rage Edward and I had incited in one another. I'd been looking for him when I stumbled in on them in that bedroom. They'd been so wrapped up in one another that they hadn't heard me, hadn't heard all of the air escaping from my lungs when I'd seen him sitting on the edge of the bed, her standing in between his legs, their mouths open and exploring. It had been so _quiet_ and yet nothing could bring them from their focus on one another. I'd only seen a snapshot of their contact, but it had been enough to shake me. It was just a kiss, but it was so much more. It was the kind of kiss that meant something, that had heart and lust and passion and promise poured into it. And when I'd finally been able to move – it couldn't have been more than two seconds later – I ducked out just in time to hear Bella ask who had just been there.

"Who cares?" Edward had replied, his voice soft and rough. "C'mere."

Oh, but _I_ cared. That had always been my problem; I'd cared too much and fruitlessly. And his statement had been enough to set me off, to go searching the kitchen for more alcohol. Emmett had come in mid-search and cut me off, right before Edward had strolled in, drunk off beer and love and probably sex. We'd already been heading for an argument when Mike had stumbled in, bumping into Edward, who bumped into the cup of beer that'd spilled onto me.

I'd known even then that it was irrational to be mad at him for everything that I was angry for, but I couldn't stop myself. I'd wanted to punish him for loving her. I'd wanted to scream and yell and make him feel like shit because that was what he was doing to me.

And he'd fallen into it so easily. It was exhilarating, that anger zipping through my veins, because I'd thought that even if he was screaming at me it was better than him ignoring me. At least he was paying attention. At least he was looking at me instead of _her_.

I'd lived on that feeling for so long, confusing myself with it, seeing the spark that would catch between us and thinking it was something else entirely. Maybe it had been at some point, before Bella came along. But after? All of his heat, all of that passion had been transferred over to her. I'd only been left with weak embers to fan.

"Let it go," a voice whispered in my ear. I jumped and tripped over my heel, backing into a solid body. I craned my neck to look up at Jasper as he wrapped his arm around me, trapping my shoulders against his chest. "It's just a game, kid."

There were those words again. _Let it go. _Apparently I had trouble doing that in all respects when it came to Edward. My emotions were burrowed into my head and heart steadfastly – the love, the anger, the resentment. It was all there, seemingly right under the surface, refusing to release its grip and always waiting to pull me under.

I shook my head and exhaled, trying to rid myself of the tension that seemed to be constantly building up inside of me, then shot him a small smile. He winked and backed away, smacking Emmett on the ass as he passed by him. Emmett turned sharply, his expression stormy, but grinned when he saw Jasper jog by.

"If you need an excuse to touch me, Whitlock, just ask," Emmett said.

"Sometimes it's hard to find the words, McCarty," Jasper replied, sidling up to Alice and planting a kiss on her head. She wound her arms around his waist, leaning into him.

We reassembled into our teams again and started back up, ready to finish the game. The intensity was white hot now, particularly between Emmett and Edward. Jasper and I kept up easily, indulging in more good-natured quips, but Bella and Alice fell back, not equipped with the kind of cutthroat competitiveness the rest of us were apparently capable of.

"Are you serious, Emmett?" Alice growled finally, shoving him. Or trying to, at least. He didn't move, just blinked down at her unimpressed. "If your elbow gets close to my nose _one_ more time, I will find a way to take you down."

"Can you trynot to be so tiny then?" Emmett shot back, seeing an opportunity to slap the ball from Edward's grasp. "Or get out of the way or something. You're perfectly aligned with my chicken wing, Brandon."

Alice held up her hands and backed away. "I'll gladly bow out. This is some aggro gladiator version of basketball I've never seen anyway." She turned to Bella. "Want to be a quitter with me?"

"Yes, please," she replied quickly, blowing a kiss to Edward, who was still wrestling with Emmett for the ball.

"We'll be cheering you boys on from the sidelines," Alice called over her shoulder. "Uh, and Rosalie."

"I don't know whether to be insulted that you forgot I wasn't a boy or not," I said, slamming into Jasper as he darted past me to get open for Edward's pass.

Jasper sunk a layup easily and Emmett swore under his breath, then turned to me with a wicked grin. "I haven't forgotten," he said, smacking me on the ass. I let out a surprised yelp, more for the actual contact than the pain, and gaped at him incredulously. "Great guarding there by the way, Barb. Jasper's got no game and you let him own you."

"Hey, I thought basketball was a no-contact sport," Edward called out.

"That's how we motivate teammates 'round these parts, Cullen," Jasper replied, reaching over to smack him. Edward dodged away and then grabbed Jasper by the back of the neck, setting off a wrestling match.

"Shit, that _hurt_!" I said, finally finding my voice. I rubbed my stinging cheek. "You're quite the fucker, you know that?"

"I have been told once or twice," he replied, strolling past me with a wide grin. I opened my mouth to retort, but then his words sunk in and it shut with a snap. My sexually frustrated mind, eager to revisit the shirtless-girl-porn-parade, started up the mental reel again. I busied myself with ripping off an errant thread at the hem of my t-shirt to distract myself.

It _was _hot out here, and it had nothing to do with the sun.

We finished out the game with little fanfare, Emmett and I winning by two points. Edward and Jasper called us sore winners for celebrating in the only way that was appropriate, which was with emphatic high fives and fist bumps, and possibly a dance move or two, but I was certain they would have done the same if they'd won. I wasn't sure either of them would have pulled off the robot with the same panache that Emmett had, though.

"Okay, you all need showers," Alice said as she and Bella joined us courtside.

"Sign me up for a cold one," Emmett muttered, pulling the edge of his shirt up to wipe his face.

Jasper reached for Alice and pulled her flush against him, wrapping his sweaty arms around her. She tried to wriggle away, her nose wrinkled, but she was laughing. "Ugh, _Jasper._"

"Joint shower?" I heard him whisper. I turned away, only to see Edward and Bella in much the same situation, his hand resting on the gentle slope of her lower back, hers on his hip.

"If my parents aren't home," Alice replied lowly.

"And I've just been transported back to high school. Awesome."

"What's the plan for later?" Emmett spoke up, grabbing a bottle of water. He tilted his head back and tipped the water into his open mouth. I watched his adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed, the muscles in his neck contract when he brought his head forward, the golden hairs on his forearm glinting in the sun as he ran his wrist over his mouth to catch the errant water that had stalled on his lower lip.

"Dinner at our place?" Bella inquired, looking at all of us and then up at Edward. We all murmured our assent. He shrugged, his hand now gripping her waist, and shifted from foot to foot. He seemed anxious to leave suddenly and gave her a pointed look. I saw her mouth, _just a second_, with a smile that I couldn't quite figure out.

It hit me as I saw that spark I'd never seen ignite with me flare up when he looked down at her. He was anxious to get her back home. I felt a swell of jealousy, but I wasn't sure if it was because of the openly lustful gaze Edward was leveling at Bella or because I was going back to the hotel alone and sweaty and nearly everyone else was going to be getting it on.

I wasn't sure of much of beyond the fact that I needed to get out of here before I suffocated from all of the pheromones floating around. I picked up my keys from the bench, trying and failing not to look at Emmett as he continued to dab at his face and neck with his shirt.

"Okay, I'll be back in awhile," I called over my shoulder, already striding away.

"Bye?" Alice called back.

"Where's she going with her ass on fire?" I heard Jasper ask.

I didn't hear anyone's response, but I didn't need to. I knew my destination: the shower, with the water on cold. Both my body and mind were overheating, in desperate need of a cool-down. And I had a feeling some time alone would do more for me than the water could.

I made it to the car in record time and slid in, starting the engine and flipping on the air conditioning. With a sharp sigh, I leaned back against the headrest and stared at the upholstered roof, letting the cold air rush over my damp skin.

Why was it that every time I walked away from them I was more confused than I'd been before? Today had been fun and I'd felt more a part of the group than I had in ages, but I couldn't help the feeling that there was still so much hanging over all of us, so many things left unsaid. The strange tension between Emmett and Edward was a prime example of that. Hell, the tension between Emmett and _me _was a prime example.

Unbidden, an image of Bella and Emmett exchanging that loaded look flashed through my mind. If I thought more about it, the irritation that surged through me felt a lot like jealousy. But I didn't. Instead I sat up straight and turned the ignition again, realizing only after the car made a nasty screeching sound that the engine was already on.

"Get a grip, Hale," I muttered under my breath, throwing the car in reverse. With a squeal of my tires, I let the apartment complex grow smaller and smaller in my rearview mirror.

That cold shower was definitely in order.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks as always to hmonster4 for being my beta extraordinaire, and to LightStarDusting and LoreliD for pre-reading and their mojo-inducing gchat convos. **

**Just a quick note that I won't be updating until the Monday after next, 3/15. Real life is kind of kicking my ass right now and I need to get caught up. I hope I've left you in a good enough place for now. I'm sorry for the delay, but I thought it would be best if I gave you all a heads-up instead of just not posting next week. I will resume my regular schedule starting 3/15. **

**The Indies are still open for voting, but only until tomorrow (3/2) so if you haven't read and voted yet, go to www(dot)theindietwificawards(dot)com. Lots of good stuff there!  
**

**See you soon. :)  
**


	11. Ch 10: Rootless Tree

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

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The sound of metal squeaking on metal was the only noise in the now otherwise quiet park.

I looked sideways at Emmett from my swing to find him watching me, a small smile on his face. I grinned back and then looked straight ahead, watching the toes of my shoes appear and disappear, appear and disappear as I pumped my legs to get myself going. The air was cool tonight and I closed my eyes at the sensation of it wrapping itself around my neck, arms and legs. My hair, which I'd left straight after my shower earlier, drifted lazily against my cheek and mouth. The crisp apple scent of the hotel shampoo and conditioner mixing with the late summer night air reminded me of the other summer nights long ago after Alice and I would spend all day at Forks' community pool. We'd drag ourselves back to my house, exhausted from swimming and chasing boys, chlorine stinging our noses. After we'd showered and thrown on pajamas, we'd go outside and sit in the swinging bench on my porch. Alice would curl herself up behind me and patiently untangle my wet hair while we talked about our day in minute detail, arguing over whether Tyler had winked at me or if he'd just gotten water in his eye. I remembered the lingering scent of shampoo surrounding us, the feeling of my wet hair soaking through my shirt, the slight burn of my nose from its all-day exposure to the warm sun and the way the cool night air soothed it. I smiled at the memory now, feeling that same sense of contentment.

After the basketball game earlier, I'd gone back to the hotel and had taken my time getting ready, spending 20 minutes under the almost punishingly strong stream of the shower. Every time I closed my eyes, I'd see Emmett's face or chest or stomach, or I'd recall the way Edward looked at Bella before I left. I didn't want to imagine what they were doing together while I was here alone, but it seemed my imagination was intent on taking me there anyway. I'd finally given up on the shower and instead turned the TV onto _Dirty Jobs _and played it as loudly as I could get away with to drown out any further thoughts.

When I'd finally made it back to the apartment, everyone was gathered in the living room watching Edward and Jasper battle each other on Guitar Hero. I'd curled up in between Alice and Emmett, trying not to notice how his hair was still damp around his ears and curling at the base of his neck or how he smelled like soap and warm, clean skin. I'd tried not to feel his thigh grazing against mine or see how the bridge of his nose was tinged pink and smattered with subtle freckles I'd never noticed before. I'd pretended that I hadn't wanted to curl my fingers around his and lean my head against his shoulder, tuck my body against his. Whatever ignorance I was trying to invoke failed miserably, though. My racing heart silently exposed me. It kept up its frantic pace when he took Edward's place in front of the television, slinging the ridiculous plastic guitar over his shoulder and standing with his socked feet wide apart, his knee bent slightly. They'd started in on a Guns 'N Roses song, Emmett singing at the top of his lungs in a terrifying falsetto to lyrics that he must have been making up as he went along while Jasper mimicked Axl Rose's signature dance move.

At one point he'd looked back at me, his chin grazing against his shoulder. The smile he'd leveled at me had been soft, just a subtle curve of his mouth, so I was surprised at the effect it had on me, at the way my pulse jumped in my wrist. I'd forgotten about everything else for a moment and when I'd finally been able to look away, it was straight at Bella and Edward, who were curled up in an oversized chair. Their attention was on Jasper and Emmett, but I couldn't help feeling like Bella had been watching us in that same thoughtful way. A wave of annoyance had crested through me and I'd slumped down in my seat, arms crossed.

I could admit to myself now that I didn't like that Emmett's friendship with Bella had grown so strong. It was irrational – as were so many of my emotions surrounding this situation – but she had Edward, maybe even Alice. I didn't want her to have him, too.

After dinner, Bella had mentioned wanting to walk it off, so we'd traipsed over to the park down the street from their apartment, our co-mingling conversations bouncing and echoing all around us. Alice had looped her arm through mine, tugging at me every time she turned around to talk to Edward or Bella, but she never broke her hold on me. Jasper and Emmett walked just in front of us, alternating between shoving each other and laughing uproariously. Eventually Edward had jogged up to join them and the three of them had loped ahead of us, joking around easily. I'd taken a mental snapshot, wanting to remember the moment in crisp detail. I must have been smiling because Alice had elbowed me in the side and called me a closet sap, then catcalled the guys incessantly until Jasper dropped back and slung her over his shoulder. He'd taken off down the sidewalk with her laughing and smacking him on the ass. It seemed that the tension that had erupted on the basketball court earlier had dissipated during dinner. The time out had done us all good, though I still felt the subtle ripples of it in my stomach.

We'd spent awhile on the sprawling field next to the playground and played random games – duck, duck, goose and tag – but eventually we'd all broken off into our established pairs. Jasper and Alice had disappeared toward the far end of the field to a baseball dugout shrouded in darkness and Edward and Bella had gone in the opposite direction, leaving Emmett and me to fend for ourselves. Emmett must have seen me eyeing the swings because he'd given me an impish smile and then taken off toward the playground, yelling over his shoulder, "race you!" I ended up getting there first, but only because I used the back of his shirt as leverage to pull myself ahead.

And now we were alone, climbing higher and higher into the night air.

"I have a question."

I looked over at him, eyebrow raised. "Shoot."

"How does it feel to know I was right about your dessert pocket?"

My eyes narrowed into a glare as he swung past me, a smug grin plastered on his face. "_Really_?"

"Yes, really. What are the emotions you're feeling? Humility? Shame? Maybe a little bit of awe? I discovered a secret compartment in your stomach, Rose. Like…" he trailed off thoughtfully, gazing up at the cloudless sky and my eyes took the opportunity to trace the strong line of his jaw. His eyes found mine again and I was surprised to find that they were vivid, even in the darkness that surrounded us. "Dare I say like Narnia?"

"Are you comparing my stomach to a magical wardrobe?" I asked, trying not to smile. The twitching of the corners of my mouth gave me away, though, and one side of his drew further up, deepening his dimple.

"I think it's a little conceited to call your stomach magical," he said, eyebrow quirked.

I looked down at my stomach and then over at him. "How would you know if it is or isn't? You haven't seen it in years."

He slowed his pace on the swing, his eyes following me as I did the same. "That's not true. I saw it yesterday. Well, just a tease, I guess."

His words and voice took on the shape of his hands and I suddenly felt his fingers grazing against the curve of my waist as they had done yesterday morning in my hotel room, could feel the heat of his touch.

"Yes, but was it a magical tease?" I asked. I tried to keep my voice light, but my body picked up on the sudden subtle tension thickening the air and I heard it waver slightly.

"I didn't get a very good look," he said, his gaze drifting down my torso and back up again. My heart skipped a beat as our eyes locked. "I think to be fair, you need to show me your stomach and I'll let you know if it's still magical."

"Still?"

"Still?" he repeated, frowning.

"You said still," I pointed out.

"I…" he started and I swore I saw a slight flush creep across the high planes of his cheekbones. He laughed, a low timbre that vibrated against my skin, and then cleared his throat. "I…may have said something to that effect."

My mouth dropped open and I widened my eyes dramatically at him. "Oh, my god, did I _fluster_ Emmett McCarty, the consummate and unflappable flirt?"

"I'm not flapped," he scoffed.

"You are _so _flapped."

He waved me off and I nudged his leg with my foot. He nudged me back gently. "Flapped isn't even a word, you know."

"Sure it is."

"Okay," he conceded. "Maybe it's a word, but not in this context."

"No, it is. Its origin is unknown, but I think the full definition is 'when Rosalie Hale beats Emmett McCarty at his own game.'" I grinned over at him, resting my cheek against the cool metal of the chain. "There's even a picture."

He rolled his eyes, trying valiantly not to smile. "Oh, really?"

"Really," I replied. "It's a cute one."

"Well, that goes without saying," he said, letting his grin slip fully into place now.

I laughed. "And just like that, he's back."

"I can only be flapped for so long, Hale," he said, swaying gently in his swing.

"Oh, thank you for deciding to embrace my innovative word."

"Anything for you," he said in a low, amused voice. His words were tossed out lightly but my heart still dipped into my stomach. Our gazes locked as a breeze rippled between us and goose bumps erupted on the skin of my arms, legs, along the back of my neck. I could feel the tiny hairs rising and the hum of the electricity in the air as his eyes drifted over my face. It was so silent around us. It felt like everything was holding its breath waiting to see what would happen next. My fingers, which were still wrapped around the chain, twitched against my cheek, wanting to feel the warmth of his skin along his cheekbones where it was tinged pink.

"I'm surprised that swing can hold you," I said, breaking the pregnant silence. It came out a little rushed and breathy and I cleared my throat, looking down at the chunks of bark beneath my dragging feet before looking back up at him again.

"Are you calling me fat?" he asked, eyebrow quirked. I snorted; fat wasn't the word I'd use to describe him. He looked comical in the swing, though, with his ass hanging off the back of the seat, the chains that framed him unable to hold the span of his broad shoulders. He looked slightly ridiculous and at the same time almost painfully handsome. It felt like the butterflies that had been lying in wait in my stomach had taken flight and moved up to my heart.

"Who are you, Jasper? I'm just saying that these swings are meant for children, not strapping men." I paused, letting my gaze wander over what I could see of his legs beyond the hem of his shorts, pausing on the scar on his knee that I'd never noticed. It was dark and I thought I was getting away with blatantly checking him out, but by the time I made it back up to his face after an unanticipated delay studying the hollow of his throat, his eyes were flickering up to mine from somewhere vaguely south. The goose bumps bloomed again and I swallowed before adding, "Although, maybe you'd count as a child maturity-wise."

He grinned, a slow one that let me know I was in trouble. "Did you just call me strapping?"

"No comment from the peanut gallery on my witty and super original insult?" I asked.

"Rose, Jasper and I played chubby bunny not three weeks ago. I think you've got a case."

I blinked at him. "Do I even want to know what chubby bunny is?"

"Don't give me that look," he said defensively. I widened my eyes innocently and held up my hands. "It's an awesome game where you stuff marshmallows in your mouth and say 'chubby bunny.' Whoever gets the most marshmallows in their mouth without puking and is still able to say 'chubby bunny' wins."

"So who won?"

"Who do you think?" he asked, sounding both incredulous that I'd ask and incredibly pleased that he claimed victory. He paused thoughtfully, then grimaced. "I was chugging Pepto-Bismol the rest of the night, though."

I rolled my eyes with a laugh. "You and Jasper should never be around each other when you're drunk. There's _so _much historical information to support this."

His laugh mingled with mine and he twisted in his seat until he was facing me as best he could. He lifted his chin and pointed to a small white scar right underneath it. "See this? This was Jasper and I playing drunk pool."

My mouth dropped open. "You're kidding."

"Nope," he replied with a smile, running his tongue over his bottom lip. I tried to keep my focus on his eyes, but that lip was glistening in what little light the moon afforded us and god, it was distracting. "We were all at a bar one night – I think it was right after midterms, or maybe in the middle of them. Anyway, everyone got just bombed out of their minds and Edward decided he wanted to play pool. And of course we had to put some money on it to sweeten the deal, right?"

I rolled my eyes. I could so clearly picture them pulling out their wallets and slapping bills down on the green baize.

"Jasper was hunched over the table and I was right behind him, busting his balls and trying to get him to miss like a smartass. Turns out I was a _dumb_ass because he pulled back with his cue and it got me under the chin. Split it right open. There was blood _everywhere_."

"Jesus," I murmured, eyeing the scar and then the curve of his jaw, going all the way back to where it turned up to meet his ear. I wondered if any girl had ever kissed him right there, if he liked that, and then my gaze snapped away, my heart pounding at the thought of doing it myself.

He chuckled and shook his head, tipping it back. God, he needed to stop doing that, putting his jaw on display like that for me. It was all I could focus on.

"It was a mess," he continued. "Alice was trying to keep Bella from passing out and Jasper was so busy laughing his ass off that he couldn't even cough up an apology. Cullen was the only one to do anything about the fact that I was bleeding out."

"Yeah, he rises to the occasion for things like that," I said quietly.

I thought of all the times he came to my aid over the years when I was hurt, all of the cuts he bandaged, the aches he soothed. After particularly brutal dance team practices, I'd go to his house, an exhausted pile of skin and bones, and collapse on his couch. He'd pull my legs onto his lap and start working on my tired feet and more often than not I'd pass out not two minutes after he'd start pressing his thumbs into my arches. Of course, those nights became nearly nonexistent after Bella entered the picture. He hadn't been around as much to patch me up when I needed it. And then he'd been the one to break me. But that was the funny thing about wounds – the physical ones were obvious. Pain was understandable when it came in the form of a split chin or a broken bone. You could easily see the blood spilled, could hear the crack of a wrist or a leg.

But the sound of a heart breaking? That was a silent sort of noise, desperate in its quiet pain. And he hadn't been around to repair it, anyway. I'd had to try to fix it myself.

Emmett looked over at me and his brows drew together for a split second. His mouth parted and then pursed. It looked like he wanted to say something but instead he shrugged. We were quiet for a minute before he glanced at me again. "You want to know the worst part?"

"There's a worse part than you bleeding all over the place?"

"Oh, yeah," he said gravely. "That fucker sunk the eight ball and won the damn game. I lost $50."

"Wow, he actually took your money? You should've pocketed it for pain and suffering."

"What a dick, huh?" he snorted affectionately. "He takes my money and leaves me permanently scarred."

I reached out to touch the scar before I knew I was doing it and he jerked slightly in surprise, then stilled. I froze, too, just for a moment, before exhaling and running my finger over the small, smooth dent. It was a study in sensations - smooth and hairless where the scar was, subtly rough where stubble was growing in, skin so warm.

"I think it makes you look tough," I murmured, letting my fingers brush against the length of his throat. I could feel him swallow. Our eyes locked and again there was that absolute absence of sound, the feeling that some universal pause button had been pushed. I was frozen under his gaze, except for my thumb, which had decided at its own volition to brush up and down the length of his jaw.

"Gives me a good rep with the ladies," he teased, his voice low, a little rough.

And just like that everything was moving again. I pulled my hand back and it felt cold without his skin against it. I wrapped it around the chain, pushing off the ground with my toe. Tipping my chin toward the sky, I said dryly, "That's right, the _rotation_."

I heard him exhale sharply through his nose. "Come on, you know I wasn't serious about the rotation thing."

"Oh, is it more like a revolving door, then?" I asked archly. It was strange how much I wanted to know about his past relationships and at the same time how much it pained me to hear about them, what little he'd tell me. The jealousy I felt was ridiculous and irrational, but it kept creeping back in.

There was a pause and I looked over to see him shaking his head, his nostrils flared slightly. "Yep, you've got me figured out."

"It's not that difficult to figure out, Emmett," I shot back, his annoyance transferring to me. "You might like to keep your love life shrouded in mystery for whatever reason, but I can cobble the pieces together. You date a lot, but it's always casual. You welcome the…" I trailed off, waving my hand uselessly in the air because I didn't want to say the word _sex_, much less have to imagine Emmett having it with other women. "…Physical intimacy, but push away any other kind. You just skim the surface."

His eyes narrowed thoughtfully and I wished I could read his mind, understand what he was thinking. But apparently only Bella had clearance to know his deep, dark secrets and mysterious motivations. "And why would I do that?"

I held his gaze. I wasn't sure if he was asking or challenging me, though it felt like a bit of both. "You tell me."

We sat inside a charged silence for a long moment. A breeze picked up, swirling my hair around my shoulders, and I wanted to say something or _do _something, but I couldn't move or speak. Instead, I watched him stand, the chains protesting with the shift of his body weight and then its absence. The bark crunched underneath the soles of his shoes as he walked toward me. My fingers tightened their grip around the chains. I planted my feet firmly on the ground, though the closer he got, the more my body felt like it was falling off its axis. I didn't know what good grounding myself like that would do. I could feel my blood pounding through every vein, feel that thickness in the air again and I held my breath when he stopped right in front of me.

His fingers wound around the chains right above mine and I swayed gently into him, his knees brushing against mine. I stared at the soft material of his t-shirt, then followed an invisible path upward, taking in the subtly visible planes of his chest, the broad span of his shoulders that were curved slightly in toward me, the exposed skin of his neck, his jaw, his lips. I let my gaze linger there before I finally reached his eyes.

He bent down until I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. His gaze moved to my mouth and my lips parted underneath the weight of it. I tried to concentrate on something other than how close he was, how badly I wanted to feel his mouth on mine, so I started counting his eyelashes, an impossible task that required all of my attention.

"What's wrong with physical intimacy, Rose?" he whispered.

21, 22, 23. A flash of shadowed aquamarine drew my eye down and I was lost for a moment, reeling backward even though my body was still. I averted my gaze again and continued counting. 24, 25.

"Nothing," I whispered back, but no sound came out. My hands were shaking and a subtle tremor moved through the chain. I wondered if he could feel it, if he knew what he did to me. "Nothing," I repeated.

32. Fuck. Some other number. My eyes slipped back down again but this time went further to the cupid's bow of his upper lip, shaded by stubble. The tip of his tongue darted out briefly and then his teeth lightly scraped across his bottom lip. I shivered, though my body was so warm, too warm.

"Do you think that's all I want?" he continued.

"Yes," I replied instantly. I shook my head as his eyes darkened. Wrong answer. I couldn't concentrate. I didn't even know what I was saying. "No. I don't know. You've never told me. What do you want?"

He blinked and it felt like everything was happening in slow motion. I let out a sigh, but it came out as more of a whimper. I pressed my lips together and then he was staring at my mouth again.

I remembered vividly and in painstaking detail what it was like in that tiny bathroom all those years ago kissing him, how it felt like every part of me was on fire, alive, like every nerve ending in my body was exposed and humming. What it was like for our mouths to move together, how he tasted of mint and alcohol – scotch or maybe bourbon – and how his fingers wound through my hair and lightly fisted it at the base of my neck. I remembered the feeling of being wanted, of wanting, of having him and needing more.

"What do I want," he breathed now, and maybe it was supposed to be a question but it came out as a statement as he stared down at me. I was scared, so scared, because I didn't know what this meant. My heart was stuttering – start, stop, start, stop – and my hands intermittently brushed against his as they trembled and then froze.

_Do it, _my body chanted out in time with the beating of my heart. _Do it, do it, do it_.

He was all around me and I could already feel his lips on mine and I didn't care, I wanted this to happen. I didn't want to think about anything else but him. Any pain or confusion I'd been feeling was numbed now, taken away by his eyes on mine, by his smell and his warmth and soon by his mouth.

My eyes closed. I could hear the soft rustle of his clothes, the ragged edge of his breath, the breeze weaving through the leaves on the nearby trees. I felt the air move around me, the heat of his body.

What I didn't feel were his lips.

And then I felt chilled air. I felt it on my cheeks where his breath just was. I felt it against my knees where his were pressed moments ago.

My eyes opened. He was still standing in front of me, but a foot away, his hands stuffed into his pockets. His jaw was tight, his shoulders coiled.

Rejection washed over me, the same I'd felt the night of Alice's party. But it was worse now, more concentrated, because at least that time he'd given in for a moment. At least I knew he'd felt it, that pull, and I'd known he hadn't been able to resist it either.

Emmett was so far away now, though not much physical distance separated us, and the absence of his warmth made me feel completely and utterly alone.

"I want more," he said finally. His voice was still low, but steady and strong. He was looking at me, going straight through me.

He didn't say it, but I could fill in the blanks. _I want more than you_.

I stood on wobbly legs and knees, my hands drifting from the chains and hitting my sides with a soft _thwack. _I could feel the moisture building behind my eyes and I blinked fiercely, sucking in my cheeks.

I would never be enough, would I? There would always be something – someone – more. The realization sank through me, from my head down into my heart and further, further, until it settled into the pit of my stomach.

Emmett frowned and stepped forward, shaking his head. "Wait, Rose –"

We were interrupted by low voices and quick footsteps. Bella and Edward appeared out of the darkness and Emmett snapped out, "fuck," before I could get to it. God, I was so tired of being interrupted, but with six people so inextricably tied together by events and friendship in the same vicinity, it seemed impossible to get a conversation started and finished without someone barging in. Still, it didn't stop the irritation from flooding through me as I swept my gaze over them.

They were grinning at one another, Edward's phone clutched in his hand. Their clothes and hair were disheveled, a small leaf hanging off the hem of Bella's shorts. My eyes locked onto that little innocuous green thing. I watched it brush against the pale skin of her thigh, and my blood started to pound angrily through my body.

It was obvious that they had been rolling around in the grass somewhere, probably quietly fornicating, and that fucking leaf suddenly stood for everything that she had that I didn't – my former place with Edward, Emmett, Alice and Jasper, the promise of forever with someone who took such good care of her heart, _love_.

It was the leaf that fully ignited the flame that sparked just moments ago with Emmett. It turned into something ugly and I found that I was furious. My hands balled into fists at my side.

Edward's voice cut through the silence. It wasn't loud, but it jarred me. "Hey, Alice and Jasper went back to the apartment but forgot they didn't have a key, so he's going to meet us back he…"

He trailed off and Bella's smile melted away slowly. They both looked between Emmett and me. I could feel the anger rolling off of Emmett. I didn't even have to look at him to know his frustration at being interrupted was plainly evident, too. It was one time too many, one more conversation that wouldn't be had because someone – nine times out of ten that someone being Edward – picked that particular moment to step back into the hotel room or the kitchen, or make their way back to the playground.

"What's going on?" Edward asked, turning to Emmett. I tried to imagine what they were seeing – me, shell-shocked, my eyes bright with tears that I refused to let fall and Emmett, his annoyance barely contained, buzzing in his rigid posture. What could it possibly look like? Bella was looking straight at Emmett, her eyes wide and concerned, and he started shaking his head, a short and rapid back-and-forth.

"Is everything okay?" Bella added, darting her gaze back to me before settling once again on Emmett.

"Is everything – is everything _okay_?" I repeated. I was so dangerously close to losing it, teetering on the edge of what was left of my patience. This entire situation was the very definition of _not_ okay and I suddenly felt as if I was the only one who realized that. It all rushed back to me in a tidal wave of fury – the way I found out about Edward and Bella's wedding five days before it was going to happen when they'd all had five fucking _months_ to find a way to tell me, coming upon all of them together and happy and barbequing like some perfect little family, the constant barrage of memories that had come up over the past few days, many of which I wasn't a part of, the ways in which Bella had filled the space I vacated. The ways in which I was so obviously not missed.

No, everything was so very, very wrong.

Edward must have caught the edge in my voice because he stepped forward, almost protectively. "Were you guys just fighting?"

"Why the hell would you assume that?" Emmett snapped.

"Well, she seems pretty upset," he snapped back. "So something must have happened."

"Brilliant deduction," Emmett muttered.

"Hey, what's with the attitude? You've been shitty to me all day and I'm getting really tired of –"

"Edward –" Bella started, frowning.

"Oh, _you're _tired –" Emmett interrupted.

"Yeah, so just tell me what your deal is!" Edward practically shouted, throwing his hands up. "I'm not a fucking mind reader."

Emmett snorted derisively. "That's fucking obvious."

"Hey, hey. Why don't we go back to the apartment and talk there?" Bella spoke up, stepping in between them. "I know this…this needs to happen, but maybe somewhere more private would be better."

I watched her place a hand on Edward's chest and then Emmett's and I tasted acid on my tongue. She was looking at Edward but his attention was focused on Emmett.

No one was looking at me.

"I am upset," I said lowly, though I wanted to scream it. I wanted to fucking yell and shake them all, because this involved me and yet I was once again standing on the outside of it all. But instead I looked down at the ground, all too aware that my body had gone completely still.

"What?" Edward turned to me, his eyes locking onto mine, and it felt like he was actually seeing me right now. I almost wished I could have been out of my own body, could have watched this from somewhere a few feet away to see and understand all of the emotions that were probably written on my face.

"I'm _upset_," I started, spitting it because it was a fucking joke, that word. It was a poor excuse for what I was. "That I didn't know about this until three days ago. I'm _upset_ because you all knew and none of you said _anything_." My eyes found Emmett's. He looked down and closed his eyes, shaking his head. "I'm upset because you probably all talked about it, about me, and this is _my _pain." I turned back to Edward. He was staring at me, mouth slack, his eyebrows drawn together. I couldn't tell if he was angry or pained, but it didn't matter because the tears that were threatening to fall, that I was trying so desperately to hold back, were blurring my vision and I couldn't see anything but vague outlines tinged in red. "I'm upset because you so easily ruin things without even realizing it."

There was a silence that seemed to stretch on for days, though it was probably only seconds.

"I told you this would happen," Emmett said finally. He was looking off into the distance but when Edward snapped his head toward him, Emmett met his gaze head-on. "Didn't I? But you were so sure that it was the right thing to do, and we all kept our mouths shut."

"I thought – it was – just don't start," Edward finally spat out. He let out a sharp breath and turned to me. His jaw was twitching and his obvious frustration and irritation set me aflame. "Rosalie, we really need to talk about this."

"You want to talk about it _now_, Edward? Well, you know what? It's five months too late and I have nothingto say to you."

That was a lie. I had too much to say to him and I didn't even know where to begin. I wanted to tell him that he'd made me feel like those twenty years of our friendship meant nothing to him because he was so easily able to walk away from it, from me. I wanted to tell him that I hated him, or maybe that I hated that I loved him despite what had happened between us these past ten months and how he'd treated me. I wanted to tell him about how a seagull almost shit on me when I was walking down the Embarcadero, and how it reminded me of the time a bird actually got him, right down the side of his head, while we were playing miniature golf our freshman year of high school. I wanted to tell him how I pulled out my phone to call him because I forgot that we weren't talking anymore for a split second, how I wanted to make fun of him and hear his laugh and tell him I missed him.

I wanted to tell him how desperately I needed to let go and how scared I was to do so. I wanted him to give a shit. I wanted to matter. And I was so, so afraid that I didn't. It paralyzed me. It kept the anger firmly in place, my own personal shield, because he couldn't hurt me if I was mad at him. He couldn't get to the soft, vulnerable parts of me that he could so easily wreck.

Edward scrubbed his hand over his mouth and jaw, eyes closed. "Somehow I find that hard to believe."

"Fucking watch it, man," Emmett warned and his voice was low in his chest, deep and dangerous. Bella's hand was still on Emmett's chest and I wanted to slap it off, but she looked up at him and whispered something that, despite how quiet it was, I couldn't hear. Maybe it was all the blood roaring through my ears like a vast and angry ocean.

"Why?" I blurted out suddenly, staring at Emmett.

He looked over at me, frowning. "Why what?"

"Why didn't any of you tell me?" I couldn't help the hurt that infused my voice and weakened it, that caused it to shake. It was obvious that one of them _had _told me; I wouldn't have been here if it weren't for Alice and that phone call on Monday. But I didn't understand why they all stood behind Edward's decision, why it came down to the eleventh hour before anyone decided it might be a good idea to loop me into this whole thing.

Emmett looked at me for a long moment, his eyes roaming over my face as if he was searching for something. And then he let out a deep sigh laced with what sounded suspiciously like defeat. He looked down at Bella, who tipped her head slightly, and then over at Edward, who had his arms crossed, his fist pressed against his mouth.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. His face was softly illuminated as he touched the screen, his fingers moving deftly until he found what he was looking for. He handed me the phone and his fingers brushed against mine, sending a jolt through my body and into the earth like a tether. I let out a shaky breath and then blinked down at it, not quite understanding what I was supposed to be looking at. And then I saw them – four emails with my work address, dated from four months ago up to last week.

_Call me when you get a chance_, the first one read.

_I need to talk to you about something_, said the second.

_Edward and Bella are getting married_. _You deserve to know. _

There were only two words typed in the last message:_ I'm sorry. _

When it sank in, I looked back up at him, eyes wide.

"You were going to…"

"Yeah." It was one word, simple, but it felt like he was saying so much more. What that was, I didn't know.

"Why didn't you?"

"Because it's not my job to hurt you," he said. "And Edward owed you more than that. You deserved more than hearing it from anyone other than him, Rosalie."

"Em…" Bella began and I shot her a watery glare that she didn't catch. I hated that she knew more than I did. I hated that she had all the pieces and I didn't, and I hated that I might never put it all together. I hated that he wouldn't tell me, or that he felt like he couldn't.

"You're one of my best friends, E," Emmett said, turning to Edward, who was looking down at his shoes now, his face darkened by shadows. "You've been like a brother to me, so I feel like I can be straight with you. You're wrong here, man, _so_ fucking wrong. And I'm done pretending you're not."

I trapped my bottom lip between my teeth so no one could see it shake and turned my head as my eyes filled with tears. I stared off into the distance that was a blurred vision of deep blues and greens, and I heard Edward's breath, the slight whistle his nose made sometimes when it got stuffed up. I heard the rustle of clothing and then footsteps and when I turned my head back, Emmett was walking away from me, his hands shoved into his pockets. A tear slipped down my cheek and I clenched my jaw, wiping it away quickly.

"I'll give you a minute," Bella murmured. She brushed her hand against Edward's arm, looking at him with purpose, and somehow I heard her say, though it was barely a whisper, "I love you. It's time to make it right."

I watched her follow Emmett and I started to move toward him, instinctively following his lead. I realized what I was doing two seconds later and backtracked, turning on my heel to go in the opposite direction.

I felt fingers wrap around my wrist and Edward's touch stopped me. I yanked out of his grasp and he held up his hands, palms toward me, in a show of frustrated supplication. His eyes and face were full of too many emotions. "Rosalie, please."

"No," I whispered, and then said it louder because I liked how it sounded. It gave me some pathetic illusion of control. "It's too late, Edward, don't you get it? I thought this could be fixed, but…god, we're so fucking _broken_. I don't want to do this anymore."

"Do what?" he exhaled, sounding as exhausted as I feel.

"This!" I gestured at the space between us. "This stupid game where you pretend you didn't break my heart and you act like you did what you did because you give a shit."

"I _do _give a shit, that's the point," he replied, his voice slightly elevated, his eyes flashing. "Jesus, if you'd just let me explain –"

"There's nothing to explain. You did a shitty thing and you've been a shitty friend and I've wasted so many years on this. _So _many years, god." I turned again to walk away and then stopped, my hair flying around my shoulders. I wasn't done. I would go for broke if this was it. "Do you remember what you said to me the night I told you I loved you, Edward?"

"I…" he trailed off. He seemed off-kilter, like he was trying to sift through a million thoughts zooming through his mind. "I – we – shit, Rose, we said a lot of things."

"You said 'let's just forget about this.'" I remembered the look on his face when he said that, how he'd reached out to me, how those words had broken me because I knew in that moment that he _could _forget about it. "And that's what it comes down to. You want to forget about it and I _can't_." My voice broke on the last word and it took everything, every bit of strength I had left, not to completely fall apart. "I want to hate you so much, do you know that? I want to tell you to go fuck yourself and mean it. I want to walk away from you and forget you ever existed. I want to not be alone anymore. And I haven't been able to do _any_ of that. I'm so fucking tired of it."

His hands went up into his hair and he twisted his fingers through it, stepping closer to me. I stepped back and his face fell and tightened at the same time. "Rosalie, I don't...What do you want me to say? Tell me what you want me to say, because I'm obviously not getting it right."

"Nothing," I replied, shaking my head, hands up. "I don't want you to say or do anything, because that's what you were going to do anyway, isn't it? You were going to let me walk away and pretend like you've done everything you could. You're so good at that."

I turned and started to walk away in earnest this time, my strides long and purposeful.

"Rose, I don't want it to end like this."

I stopped at his words, staring straight ahead, and my face crumpled. I almost believed him, but I knew it was only because deep down I didn't want it to end like this, either. I didn't want this to be the way we said good-bye. But there was no other way. He wouldn't admit defeat and neither would I. This was our last stalemate.

I gathered up the very last of my strength and venom, letting the anger slip easily back into place. It molded around my body and it felt brittle but unbreakable. I looked at him over my shoulder; he hadn't moved. Somehow I wasn't surprised.

"Well, that's the really shitty thing about life, Edward. You don't always get what you want. And now _you _know how that feels."

It wasn't until I was at the park exit that I let the tears fully fall, that I let them steal my vision. It didn't matter where I was going, anyway. I just needed to get out of _here_. I quickly rounded the corner to the sidewalk and was met with a solid, warm body.

"Hey, hey, hey," its voice said. Jasper. I looked up at him, disoriented, and his brow furrowed as he took in my state. "Jesus, are you okay, Rose?"

The concerned edge of his voice was too much. I knew I was about to lose what little piece of control I had left, so I dodged him, stepping off the curb and onto the street.

"I need to get out of here," I mumbled.

"Wait a sec," he called, reaching for my arm. His fingers curled around my wrist and it felt too much like what Edward had just done to me.

"Don't touch me," I choked out, pulling away from his grasp. He tried again, grabbing to stop me. I looked up at him, tears threatening to overflow. "Don't touch me, Jasper."

"Rosalie, what happened? You're kind of scaring the shit out of me."

"Please let go," I pleaded. "Please, Jasper."

He stared at me for what felt like an hour. "Okay," he said slowly, unsure, his eyes uncharacteristically serious. "But I'm not going to let you walk alone in the dark, do you understand?" I nodded silently. "I'm going to go grab Edward's keys and then I'll walk you back to the apartment. Will you let me do that?"

I nodded again, locking my knees and crossing my arms. He gave me one last long look and then took off at a quick jog, leaving me alone in the dark.

I looked sideways down the sidewalk, contemplating just leaving. I didn't really want company right now, but I was too exhausted to fight it. Jasper was a freakishly fast runner and would probably catch up with me anyway. So instead I tried not to think about what had just happened, how everything had gone so horribly wrong and what a life-altering mistake I'd made in coming up here in the first place. What had I thought I'd accomplish? Had I thought I'd slip easily back into the place that I'd vacated? Or that I'd get closure, whatever the hell that even meant? Did I think I'd waltz in and Edward and I would have some sort of miraculous adult conversation where we told one another our feelings without getting pissed off and then we'd hug it out? Because if so, I was impressively delusional.

And I couldn't even think about Emmett, about what had almost happened between us and how he'd pulled away. I couldn't think of those unsent emails and what they meant, or how angry he'd been on my behalf. I couldn't think of his eyes or his mouth or how his skin felt against mine without the tears coming back, without my heart squeezing so painfully that it took my breath away.

Jasper rounded the corner after a few minutes and his eyes swept the area before landing on me. Relief washed over his features, followed immediately by concern. I knew then that Edward must have given him the Cliff's Notes version of what happened. He was being too nice, too cautious. "That's my girl. I thought I'd have to chase you down. I got my ass chewed out by McCarty and Cullen for leaving you out here and it slowed me down."

"They're together?" I asked, surprised.

"Yeah," he replied, walking slowly until he was right in front of me. "Listen –"

"No, I'm not going to do this with you. Just take me back." I felt the tears rushing to my eyes and I pressed against my eyelids impatiently.

"Okay, okay," he said. "Just come here first."

His hands wrapped around my wrists and pulled my hands from my eyes. I stared pointedly at his shoulder; I knew that if I looked at him, I'd lose it completely. I was already so close to the edge. I could feel a sob sitting in my chest, just waiting for the opportunity to release itself. "Don't, Jasper," I whispered.

"Shh," he said, trying to reel me in. I struggled for approximately two seconds, digging in my heels, but I was too weak. Suddenly my face was pressed into his shirt, my hands gripping the soft fabric of it, and his arms were around my shoulders. A shuddering sigh wracked through my body and then I was crying, deep, keening sobs.

"There you go," he whispered against my hair, his hands making soothing circles on my back. "Just let it out. You don't always have to be so strong."

My knees buckled slightly at that, but he held onto me, anchoring me against his chest. And then he let me cry, let my tears soak through his shirt. He didn't say a word. He just rested his cheek against my head and stood as a silent pillar while I grieved for what had just happened, what had happened over the past ten months and really, the past ten years.

Eventually, when my sobs had reduced to quiet tears and I was sure his hands were about to burn holes through my shirt from how long he'd been rubbing my back, I pulled away. Resting my elbows against his chest, I wiped at my eyes.

"Can you take me back now?" I murmured, my chin tucked against my chest.

"You got it," he replied. I didn't – couldn't – meet his eyes, not after I'd just completely broken down in front of him, so I pulled away and started walking quickly down the darkened sidewalk. I could feel him next to me, keeping pace with me, but he stayed quiet. A moment later, his fingers wrapped around my shoulder and he squeezed it gently.

"I'm guessing Edward told you what happened," I sniffed, my eyes trained straight ahead.

"I mean, yeah, what I could get out of him. He's a fucking…" he trailed off and I looked up at him. His eyes were troubled, his brow creased, as he gazed back down at me. "He made a huge mistake, Rose, and I think he's just starting to realize how massive it was."

"I'm glad it's just now dawning on him," I said sarcastically. I was so tired of everyone telling me how he felt, how sorry he was. I hadn't heard it from him and until I did, it meant nothing. "But you know what? It's too fucking late."

"Why?" he asked simply.

"_Because_," I snapped out and then stopped, shaking my head. I didn't even know where to begin to make him understand the reasons this couldn't be fixed. I only knew that it couldn't, that the time to mend our friendship had come and gone. "It just is."

"Do you think it might help to hear his side of things?"

"I don't want to hear to hear his side of things."

"But don't you think it might clarify all of this shit, Rose? Even if you don't forgive him – and, hey, you have that right – at least you'll know why he did what he did."

"He did what he did because he doesn't care, Jasper," I replied, my voice strained under the weight of my emotions. "He can say he gives a shit until he's blue in the face, but it's what he _did _that lets me know he doesn't."

"Okay," he said. I looked up at him, surprised, and he shrugged. "Listen, I could go on and on about the fact that he does give a shit and I could tell you what you _should_ do, but I think you've had enough of that. You need to come to that conclusion on your own."

"And what conclusion is that?"

"That you still have a lot to talk about," he replied, letting his hand drop from my shoulder. I let out a heavy sigh. "Rose, I say this with a lot of love, but you are stubborn as hell and sometimes it's to your detriment. And I think it could do you a lot of good to listen to what he has to say. You deserve to know what the hell happened, you know? But that's your decision to make."

I shook my head. "He took that choice away from me, Jasper. This is done. It's over."

I looked up at him, waiting for him to argue or push, but he simply gazed back down at me, his eyes softened and dark, though not pitying. I'd always appreciated that about Jasper, his ability to be earnest and sympathetic without the condescending edge that people sometimes got when they were telling you things they thought you should know.

"You'll be okay either way," he said finally, quietly.

"How can you promise me that?" I asked. I meant for it to come out as a challenge, but instead it sounded and felt like a plea. I wanted to believe that I would be, even if it felt impossible right now. Even if it felt like I was losing everything all over again, and the possibility of something more, something bigger. Emmett's face flashed in my mind and I looked down at the ground, my heart constricting.

"Because I've seen the fucking worst," he replied. "I've seen a twenty-two year marriage ruined. I've seen how shitty love can be, and how you can still be left standing after you think it's going to end you. This won't kill you. It's going to hurt for a while, I know that. Shit, I _know _that, Rosalie. But you'll be okay. Eventually it stops hurting so much."

His gaze was earnest on me, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, in his locked elbows and his hands jammed into his pockets. I knew his parents' divorce had been messy, but it was obvious to me now just how much it had affected him seeing his family fall apart like that. Parents were supposed to be infallible and sometimes we didn't even know they were breakable until we saw their fragility with our own eyes. It was a painful lesson that I understood all too well and I wondered how the dissolution of his parents' marriage had shaped him, if it subconsciously made him more reluctant to marry. He and Alice had been dating for ten years but he'd only mentioned marriage to her in the general sense and with a 'someday' deadline. I wondered if, deep down, he was just as afraid as I was.

Maybe we were all afraid.

I closed my eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. Warm fingers closed around mine and I felt the flood of tears behind my eyelids again, the rush of moisture down my nose, the tremor in my chin.

"I'm leaving," I whispered into the silence, knowing that was what I had to do as soon as I said the words. Maybe this was going to be the closest to closure I had, those angry words I'd said to Edward, the distance I'd created in walking away from him. Maybe I just needed to find a way to let go on my own, without his help.

A bird chirped somewhere, a lonely sound that echoed around the quiet street.

There was a long pause and I wondered for a second if I'd spoken too softly. "Will you sleep on it, Rose? Give yourself a bit of time to cool off?"

"I will," I replied quietly, wrapping my arms around my waist as we reached the parking lot where my car sat waiting for me. I felt no shame making that promise, no guilt. I _wouldn't _do anything tonight. I'd drag myself into my hotel room and pour myself into bed. I'd close my eyes and try not to think about everything that had happened tonight, everything that had been said. And eventually I'd fall asleep and I'd hope right before it took me for a dreamless one, for blackness and nothingness and silence.

But Jasper hadn't said anything about tomorrow. And tomorrow I was gone.

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**A/N: I know I've got a couple criers in the group****, so I'm fully prepared to hand out tissues or hugs or Xanax. Or maybe all of the above, depending on how you roll. **

**Caps lock-sized love to hmonster4 for getting me through this chapter and being my Béla Károlyi. Also huge thanks to LightStarDusting and LoreliD. Sorry about those emails last night…**

**Finally, thank you all for being so patient with me while I took a quick break. I'm going to try my hardest to stay up to date from here on out. When I first started posting, I was five chapters ahead and now I'm whittled down to one *****cue panic*****, so depending on how insane RL continues to be, weekly updates might be a little more sporadic. But I swear I will never keep you waiting too long, and **_**hopefully**_** I can just continue the weekly updates. **

**That was totally tl;dr, so basically just stick with me. You all continue to be the best readers a girl could ask for.  
**


	12. Ch 11: Turn to Stone

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

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I woke early the next morning, suddenly and with a gasp. My legs were tangled in the sheets, my heart pounding. In the early morning light everything seemed almost surreal, fuzzy around the edges, and it took me a few seconds to remember where I was and why. It took me slightly longer than that to remember everything that happened last night.

I turned my head to look at the alarm clock on the nightstand next to me. 7:39. I hadn't gotten up this early at my own volition in god knew how long, but my sleep was fitful at best. I'd dreamed of my childhood here, of the boy with fire in his hair and knobby knees and a crooked smile, and all of the moments we'd shared together. I'd dreamed of that night ten months ago, though it was all shadowed and hazy, a bizarre conglomeration of angry words and suffocating feelings. And then the last dream, the one that woke me up, had been of the wedding I wouldn't get to see. That had been perfectly clear, as if I were there, and I could feel the slow burn of my heartache even through unconsciousness. In that dream, I'd been a ghost. They'd all moved right through me as they laughed and celebrated. And when someone asked where I was, they'd all looked at one another in confusion.

"Who's Rosalie?" Emmett had finally questioned, his voice far away, echoing and vibrating right through me.

Edward looked around him, eyes narrowed thoughtfully, and then shrugged. "I don't know."

I pressed my fingers against my sternum now, as if that would stop the speed with which my heart was pounding against it. I closed my eyes for a second and took a deep breath in through my nose and out through my mouth. I did it again. I did it seven more times until the dream's edges had softened and then I rolled out of bed.

I'd left Edward and Bella's last night before Alice could see me and take in my tear-stained cheeks and swollen eyes. She walked up to Jasper in the parking lot just as I turned out of it. I could clearly see the confusion on her face in my rear-view mirror as she looked at my retreating taillights and then up at him.

I felt bad leaving that way, but I didn't want to have to explain to one more person what had just happened, even if that one person was my best friend. A white-hot hum of anger and exhaustion and defeat was radiating through every cell in my body and the only way to get away from that was to get away from them. The weight of my foot on the gas pedal increased and I got back to the hotel in record time. I'd just peeled off my clothes when my phone rang. I thought about ignoring it, but if it was Alice I knew it would be only a matter of time before she was banging down my door.

She was mid-sentence when I pressed the phone to my ear. "…know that, Jasper, but I have to make sure –"

"Alice," I'd said in a flat voice. I collapsed on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, letting myself sink down into the mattress.

"Are you okay? I'm coming over." Her voice was high and tight.

"No," I replied to the question and statement.

"Jasper told me what happened…" she had trailed off and I hadn't tried to fill the silence while she struggled to continue. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Rose, I don't know how to make it better. How can I make it better for you?"

"You can't," I'd replied simply. How could she? She wasn't the source of this anyway, at least not directly. Edward's and my friendship was the epicenter of this disaster; the resulting cracks had simply reached out to the rest of the group. It wasn't up to any of them to fix it.

"I don't want you to be alone right now. It'll take me five minutes –"

"No, Alice, I need to be alone right now. Please."

And I had needed it so badly for once. I felt like I was crawling out of my skin. I knew that rehashing what I'd said to Edward and what he hadn't said to me would only increase the feeling, would only cause the ache in my heart to deepen and take root. I wanted to close my eyes and forget for a little bit. I wanted a different kind of blackness to envelop me, one that didn't hurt quite so badly.

There had been a long pause where I could only hear the steady cadence of her breath. I'd closed my eyes, praying that she'd give me this, that I'd be able to get away with what I wanted – no, _needed_ – to do. "Okay," she finally said and it came out sounding pained, strangled. "Okay. Can I see you tomorrow? Are you – I mean, are you going to leave?"

"I don't know," I'd lied. It had been so easy saying those two words, just a simple exhale. "I'm going to get some sleep. I really need to sleep."

"Okay," she'd repeated. "I…" Again she'd trailed off and when she spoke again, her voice was thick and choked, "I'm sorry, Rose, for everything. I wish I could be there for you right now."

"I know."

She'd sighed and then said quietly, "'Night."

"Bye, Alice."

I'd heard the soft click of her disconnecting, but kept the phone up to my ear. "I'm sorry, too," I'd whispered, a tear falling down the side of my temple and into my hair. And then I shut off my phone. I had to hope that she'd understand at some point why I lied to her. I had to hope that she'd see how much this had broken me and how I needed to put myself back together on my own. I knew now that no one else could do it for me, even if they wanted to try.

After I showered, I made quick work of getting ready and packing. It was a little after eight when I lay the garment bag that held the dress I was going to wear to the wedding, as well as the yellow one I was planning to wear to the rehearsal dinner tonight, on top of my suitcase. I thought briefly of the shopping trip with Bella and Alice – god, was that really just two days ago? – and my ensuing conversation with Bella in the dressing room about Jake. My hand clenched at my side. She'd meant well, but it was easy to say you understood when you were on the other side.

I let my eyes wander over the fabric of the dress, the delicate holes evenly spaced throughout. I reminded myself to stop in Port Angeles on the way to Seattle. $200 had been too much to spend on a dress I'd probably only wear once, anyway.

When everything was packed, I wandered around the room to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything, my heart getting heavier with each step. I knew this was the right thing to do. It was the _only_ thing to do. But I still felt unfinished and restless, a swirl of emotions roiling in my stomach and congesting my chest.

The woman at the front desk, the same one who checked me in on Tuesday, asked too many questions when she realized I was checking out early. Was the room not up to par? Too loud? Too warm? The bed too small? Was there a work or personal emergency? I was finally able to silence her with a pointed look and a terse response. I considered telling her it was the shitty excuse for a muffin that really sealed the deal – I wasn't even sure I'd fully digested it yet – but I managed to refrain, if only barely.

She told me to take my time and threw me a kind smile that both managed to make me feel terrible about the muffin comment, even if I didn't say it out loud, and caused a painful squeeze in my heart.

The thing was, I didn't have time to take. I knew how cruel time could be, how it could lull you into a sense of false security, thinking you had more of it right before it took it all away. And that was what it had done to me. Every bit of time I had here in this town, with these people, was gone.

Still, I paused at the driver's side door after I'd loaded everything into the trunk of the car, my hand hovering over the handle. That incomplete feeling grew in the pit of my stomach and I let my hand drop to my side, turning on my heel.

There was one thing I wanted to do before I left for good, one more place I needed to go.

I took my time walking there, drinking everything in. Though I didn't necessarily miss Forks itself, I missed everything it stood for. I missed the memories that still lived and breathed inside its buildings, like the diner where my parents and I always had Sunday breakfast. Or the grocery store, where Alice and I would camp out in the magazine aisle, alternating between squealing over _Tiger Beat_ and snickering over _Cosmopolitan_. I turned a familiar corner and shook my head when I passed by Mrs. Cope's house. The Christmas lights that she never got around to taking down when the holidays passed were ever-present. I wondered if she still turned them on every night, like she used to do when we still lived here, if she kept them up on purpose because it made her happy or if she was just too lazy to take them down.

And when I turned the next corner, the tart, fresh smell of freshly mowed lawn wafting in the still morning air, my heart squeezed at the sight of what had been my house nestled halfway down the street. The front yard was partly shaded underneath the canopy of the huge oak tree that had been the bane of my dad's existence growing up. It was where what seemed like the entire bird population of Forks had congregated in the morning to chirp incessantly. I'd gotten my disdain for the morning hours from him and I could almost picture him storming out in his slippers and bathrobe, smacking a newspaper against the trunk as if it would shut them up.

I couldn't stop the tears from rushing to my eyes and spilling over. I pressed my hand against my mouth and looked around, embarrassed that I couldn't keep it together, but the street was quiet. It was all mine for now.

I made my way slowly to the house and sat on the curb, right above the painted address numbers. I closed my eyes. I imagined hearing the buoyant voices of the childhood versions of Edward and I, the sounds of our shoes slapping against the asphalt as we ran down the street. I imagined us as teenagers, sneaking across my front lawn in the middle of the night, trying hard not to laugh too loudly, our hearts racing because we'd gotten away with our little taste of freedom once again. The air swirled around me and I could almost smell the perfume of my mom's rose bushes. I could feel the sun beating down on my shoulders, soaking into my hair, and I thought of all the days and nights, the hours and minutes and seconds that made up the complex tapestry of my childhood and adolescence. It played through my mind like an old, slightly faded film reel.

It was so hard doing this, saying goodbye for the final time to the place that held such important memories. And it wasn't just this house. It was what it represented to me – my completely ideal childhood, the deeply rooted friendships I'd made and cultivated, the contentment I'd felt for so long, the absolute certainty that life would always come easily to me, that I'd get what I wanted because I always had.

But Edward was one of the things that reminded me that life didn't work like that. Things moved and shifted, you gained and you lost. Sometimes you never had it at all.

I took a deep, shaky breath and looked down at the phone in my hand, then over my shoulder at what used to be my front door. I needed a reminder that some things – some people – were still there. Tears stung at my eyes and I breathed out through my mouth as I waited for it to power up. When it was ready, I pressed the first speed dial and brought the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?"

I didn't know how badly I needed her until I heard her voice and my shoulders jerked with a silent sob.

"Mommy?" I choked out.

"Rosalie?" she replied, her voice instantly infused with concern. I hadn't called her anything but Mom, or Mother when I was feeling particularly bristly, since I was young and she knew immediately that something was wrong in only the way that mothers can. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know. No."

"What is it? Are you hurt?"

The tears spilled over, streaking down my cheeks before I knew they were there. I _was _hurting, and I couldn't hide it from her anymore. Or really, I didn't want to hide it from her anymore. "I need to tell you something."

And so I did. I told her everything, all of it. I told her about how scared I'd been to lose her, and then how scared I'd been to lose Edward. How it felt like everything was slipping through my fingers and I had no control. I explained what I'd done and what he'd said and the past ten months of silence. I confessed that I felt lost, set adrift by time and distance and growing up. And by the time I was done, my voice was hoarse, my cheeks wet with tears. I felt heavier saying it all out loud but at the same time like some of the weight I'd been carrying around had been lifted. I hadn't realized just how heavy the secret I'd kept from her had been until I released it.

There was a long pause on the other side of the line and I thought for a second that we'd gotten disconnected.

"Oh, Rose," she finally said, almost sadly. "Why didn't you just tell me all of this, sweetheart?

"I didn't want you to know, Mom," I replied, wiping at my damp cheeks with the back of my wrist. "You've been working so hard to get better. I didn't want anything to jeopardize that."

And if I was being honest with myself, I hadn't wanted to disappoint her, particularly when she was in the midst of putting herself back together, when she was so fragile. My expectations had also been hers and that I hadn't been able to fulfill them was a hard pill to swallow. But I didn't want to carry that burden anymore. I didn't want to lie about the turn Edward's and my friendship had taken and how we'd fallen apart.

"I just can't believe it," she continued. I heard the low murmur of my dad's voice in the background and she whispered something to him. I heard the soft click of a door closing.

"Well, it's true," I replied, a little sharply. "Edward's not nearly as perfect as you think he is."

"I don't think he's perfect, but you were his best friend for so many years. I don't understand why he'd leave you out of something so big."

"I don't either, but he did."

"What did he say when you asked him why?"

I opened my mouth to reply and then shut it, frowning. We'd danced around it time and time again in the past few days, but had I ever come right out and simply asked why he'd done what he did? The power of that one word was too large to ignore and yet as far as I could remember, I hadn't uttered it to him. "I haven't."

"Why not?"

"It doesn't really matter why I haven't," I sighed. "He hasn't made much of an effort to sit me down and tell me, and I'm done chasing after the answers. It's just…it's too late for us. I'm going back to San Francisco today. I think I just have to come to terms with it on my ow –"

I saw a flash of silver out of the corner of my eye and turned slightly, then froze in shock. It took me several seconds that felt like years to understand what I was seeing as Edward's car pulled up to the curb not six feet away from me.

"Mom," I whispered, my eye wide, traveling up from the grill of his car to the windshield. I could see him behind the wheel, his hands gripping 10 and 2. "Mom, I need to call you back."

"What's wrong, sweetie? What's going on?"

He got out of the car, his eyes trained on me, a mixture of apprehension and relief playing across his features. "It's Edward."

I didn't give her a chance to say goodbye, just pressed the end key and watched in silence as he walked slowly toward me, his hands stuffed into his pockets.

"I thought I was too late," he said, his voice unsteady.

I stared at him, my chest tight. "What are you doing here?"

"We need to talk."

"No, what are you doing _here_? How did you know where to find me?"

He was standing in front of me now, looking down at me, and there were so many emotions flashing in his eyes, across his face. I didn't know where to begin in trying to figure them out. "I went to your hotel to find you and the woman at the front desk said you'd checked out. But your car was still there and I just figured…" he trailed off, gazing toward the house. He shook his head. "I thought – I _hoped_ you might be here. But if you weren't, I would've kept looking. I needed to find you."

"Why?" There it was, _the_ word. I exhaled it slowly, around the anger and sadness and confusion crowding my throat.

"Rosalie," he replied, pulling his hands out of his pockets. One hand moved up to rub across his chest, over his heart, and he swallowed hard. "I've made a lot of mistakes in our friendship. But my biggest one would have been letting you leave here without telling you everything that I haven't been able to say. There are some things I didn't even know I _needed_ to say."

I had no idea how to respond. Part of me wanted to tell him that it was too late, that I didn't want to hear it. That part wanted me to run in the other direction, away from him and all of the hurt. But another part, a larger part, was silently screaming at me, begging me to listen. It held me in place, kept me motionless and staring up at him.

"What, did you have some sort of revelation last night?" I asked finally, my voice steeled.

He looked upward at the oak tree. When it wasn't housing a million annoying birds, it had been our jungle gym. I remembered us racing one another up the branches for what seemed like forever, sure that if we kept going we could touch the sky above us.

"Yeah," he replied. "I did."

"And what exactly brought that on?"

He stepped toward me and then hesitated, his eyes darting to the space on the curb next to me. I paused, gave an ever-suffering sigh and then scooted over a fraction of an inch.

He sat down and sprawled his legs out in front of him, his knee brushing against my calf. He took a deep breath. "I don't even know where to start."

I thought of all the things that I'd internally written out, the things that I wanted him to know and understand, but I found myself in the same position as him. And I was tired of being the one to say everything. It was his turn. "Just try, Edward, for once. Anything you say now will be more than what you've ever said."

"I was up for…" he looked down at his watch, his eyes widening slightly. I noticed for the first time that he had dark circles underneath them, that their usual vividness was dulled. "Shit, I guess all night, talking to Emmett."

"Emmett?" I echoed, confused.

He nodded. "Yeah. We stayed at the park after you left and after he got done ripping me a new asshole, we actually had a really good talk."

"About me?" I wasn't sure how I felt about them sitting around talking about me and this situation, though the thought of Emmett defending me did strange things to my heart.

"Mostly." He stopped and sighed, pulling his knees up and resting his elbows on them. "He gave me some much-needed clarity."

"What about?" I prompted when he didn't continue, my mind continuing to whirl. What had Emmett said? I couldn't imagine what kind of light he'd be able to shine to give Edward his little epiphany.

Edward looked at me, his eyes roaming my face as if he was searching for something. "A lot of things."

I snorted, shaking my head. My patience, which had been thin to begin with, was whittling down to nonexistence. "Wow, a _lot _of things, huh? How descriptive, Edward."

He shot me an exasperated look, then continued on, "Rose, listen, I've known you for the majority of my life. We've been friends since we were five, which is a hell of a long time –"

"Are you really giving me a history lesson on our friendship right now?"

"For Christ's –" he cut himself off abruptly and took a deep breath, looking down at the ground. "We're never going to get through this if we just get shitty with each other, Rose. Will you let me explain, please?"

I paused for a beat, considering his statement. He was right, of course. Our anger had always gotten the best of us, had created walls of miscommunication and silence. And though it was my natural instinct to shield myself with it, especially when it came to him, I knew that if I didn't lower it we would never get through this conversation. It scared me to think that I would have to be vulnerable, that I would have to expose myself to potential heartache, but really, how much worse could it get?

"Okay." He looked at me dubiously and I widened my eyes slightly. "I said okay."

He took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair, pulling at the ends slightly. His eyes locked onto something in the distance. "Rose, I always just assumed that I knew you well enough to know what was best for you, but I've been really fucking wrong about that."

I nodded silently, waiting for him to continue.

"I'm sorry," he replied, looking at me. His eyes were earnest, troubled. Those two words, so unexpected and significant, went right through me and into my heart. I moved my hand over it, pressing my fingers into my skin. "Maybe I should start there. I'm sorry for everything that's happened between us. I'm sorry that you had to deal with your mom's accident alone. I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you when you probably needed me most."

I closed my eyes to stave off my sudden tears, concentrating on the sounds around me – the birds chirping overhead, the cars driving by on the main road not far away, the pounding of my heart in my ears. "It felt like you didn't even care, like you could so easily move on and forget about me," I replied finally. "It felt like I didn't even matter."

"You did. You _do_. But you told me to get out of your life and –"

"I know what I said, Edward, but why couldn't you have fought for me?" I asked, opening my eyes again and locking my gaze with his. It took everything I had to control the anger that was bubbling up, and my hands curled into fists. But I didn't want it to get in the way. Now that we'd started on this path, I didn't want that to be the reason we didn't get all of this out in the open. "Even just a little bit? You _knew_ what I was going through. You had to have understood, even a little bit, that I wasn't in my right mind that night, and it was like you just gave up."

"I didn't give up. And I know I didn't reach out to you, but you didn't either." I opened my mouth to protest but he held up his hand to stop me. "That's not an excuse, okay? I was wrong thinking that. It's just that at the time I saw it as another reason why I should stay away. I thought that you meant what you said, and I was afraid of hurting you more." He laughed mirthlessly. "Which I ended up doing anyway."

"So, you thought you were doing what was best for me?" I asked slowly, wanting to understand, needing to wrap my head around his completely faulty reasoning. "Not telling me about your wedding fit into that plan? Making everyone lie to me did?"

"I thought I was protecting you," he replied, shaking his head. "I was _positive_ that was the right thing to do. I didn't want to put you in the same position you were in the night of your mom's accident, and I thought if I just cut myself off from you, I couldn't hurt you anymore. That was my motivation for everything I did after that fight."

"That's…" I trailed off and took a deep breath, trying to further calm the simmering anger I felt, the frustration. "Edward, you can't make those decisions for me. Do you know what it was like for me to find out about your wedding - on _Monday_ – from someone other than you? Do you understand how that made me feel like I was nothing?"

"I know that now, Rosalie. The second you walked out onto the patio and I saw the look on your face, I knew I'd gotten it wrong. But I don't want you to think that I did what I did because I didn't care, or that I didn't call because I could forget about you. I could never –" he stopped and cleared his throat, looking away. I could see the muscles in his jaws working, the tension in his hand that cupped his knee. When he looked back at me, his eyes were bright and inexplicably sad. "I could never forget about you."

"It felt like you did," I replied, the anger ebbing into sadness. God, he could be so single-minded when he thought he was right, so blind. But could he really not see how his silence had fed my belief that he stopped caring? That I was irrelevant?

"Jesus, how could I? You've been with me for twenty years, Rose. I never wanted to imagine my life without you." He let out a sharp breath. "I guess I never wanted to see how you felt about me because it would've changed us, and god, that…that _scared_ me. But I also didn't want to lose you to anyone else. I don't know how I didn't realize how selfish that was, how that probably fucked so many things up for you."

"You didn't have to imagine what it would be like to lose me because I was always there," I said quietly. "I was always waiting for you."

"If I had known that, Rose, I would've let you go a long time ago. I don't want to be the one to stand in the way of your happiness and I know now that I have."

I sighed. "I stood in my own way, too, I guess. I mean, I'll saddle you with a lot of the blame…" I trailed off and gave him a trace of a smile. His eyes grabbed a hold of it and I could almost see the spark of hope that flashed in them as the corners of his mouth twitched. "But I have to own some of it, too."

"What do you mean?"

"You were mine, you know? Even when you liked girls or they liked you, you always came back to me. I loved being the most important girl in your life." I shrugged, looking down and picking at a tuft of grass growing through the cement. "I felt like I had every piece of you to myself before. And when Bella came along, it was like I was losing you in these tiny increments. We went from hanging out every day to a few times a week and then not much at all. Put yourself in my shoes, Edward. What would that have been like for you, to watch me fall in love with someone?"

He gazed at me for a long moment, then said softly, "It would've been torture."

"So that night…" I stopped, my throat constricting so tightly I couldn't speak. I felt like I was back there again, standing in front of him, silently hoping he'd pick me and knowing he wouldn't. I looked down the street, toward the stop sign where he and I would sometimes sneak joints. "That night was the first time I realized I was going to completely lose you to Bella. And with everything else I was losing, or possibly losing, I just snapped. It was a last-ditch effort to keep even a small piece of you as mine. I didn't want to accept it. I held onto the idea of you and me even though I think I knew deep down it wasn't possible. But Edward, we can't own people. You never belonged to me, as much as I thought I wanted you to, and I wouldn't let go of the idea that you _should_."

"I think we both held on to a lot of things," he replied lowly. "We were so close growing up. You were my childhood, you know? And I think that somehow I thought that gave me full claim on you. It made me think I knew what was best for you. It made me walk away from you that night and put down the phone every time I wanted to call you. Rosalie, I should have told you about the wedding. I should have let you decide whether you wanted to come or not and I'm sorry, I'm _so_ very sorry for taking that away from you. I have no right to ask you to forgive me for that and I'm not going to, but just know…" He trailed off, looked down at the ground and shook his head. His shoulders sagged. "It weighs really fucking heavily on me. I never wanted to do this without you and now that I'm sitting here with you, I can't believe I almost did."

"I need to know that you regret it," I said, though really I was asking. I was pleading. I wanted to believe that our friendship and everything we'd been through together meant something to him, too. I needed to believe that it was as much a part of him – woven into his mind and heart and bones – as it was a part of me. It wouldn't fix everything magically, knowing that he regretted what he'd done, but it would be a start. It would be _something_.

"There aren't words, Rose." He looked sideways at me, his head still bowed, and I nodded, bowing mine too.

We'd sat like this so many times before, on warm summer days with the melted remnants of popsicles running down our legs and cold winter nights in front of Edward's car parked at the curb, not quite ready to say good night. He looked so familiar to me now – I could see the little boy inside of him still – but at the same time so different, so unlike the Edward that had been mine growing up.

And he was different, I realized. I'd held on so long to the idea instead of the reality of him. I'd expected him to grow into the mold I'd created, and had been disappointed when he hadn't fit it. He wasn't who I thought he was and that didn't make him wrong or bad or less. It just made him a different version of the Edward I'd known. Or maybe it was the grown-up version. And I knew he'd done the same to me. We'd both been guilty of unrealistic expectations, of blindness, when it came to one another. I had to wonder if that was something that all friends who'd known one another since they were small dealt with. It was difficult to come to terms with the way a person grew and changed because you expected them to remain as you'd always known them, as irrational as that was.

The truth was, I knew 5-year-old Edward like the back of my hand. I knew 11-year-old Edward and 15-year-old Edward. Those versions of him were like a well-worn book whose pages I'd read time and time again. They were a part of the paired-up versions of myself. But if I thought about it, _really_ thought about it, the adult Edward I thought I knew didn't exist. I didn't know what his favorite song was or how he voted in the last election. I couldn't have said whether he took his coffee black or loaded it with sugar and cream. I wasn't sure whether his favorite movie was still _A Clockwork Orange _or when he cried last.

"We don't really know each other anymore, do we?" I asked out loud, looking over at him. The thought squeezed my heart, caused a ripple of sadness in my chest.

He looked at me for a long time, his eyes dancing over my face, the corners of his mouth turned downward. "Not like we used to."

My eyes filled with tears. It was hard to hear him admit, too, to realize that we weren't who we used to be. "I guess we've been living in the past a bit."

He nodded, ducking his head, and gave me a sad, crooked smile. "It was a pretty good place to live, though."

"The best," I whispered. And it had been. But I didn't want to live in it anymore.

"Rose?"

I looked over at him, a tear slipping down my cheek. He reached over and brushed it away with his thumb, his hand cradling my face, his eyes serious. "I want everything for you, do you know that?" I nodded, my chin trembling against his palm. "I want you to have all of it, everything I never would have been able to give you. I can't think of anyone more deserving of it than you."

"Don't get all sweet on me now, Cullen. This is already a little too after-school special," I said with a sniffled laugh. I pulled back and looked away so that I could wipe at my face.

"Let me have my moment, Hale," he replied, his shoulder nudging mine. I turned back, resting my cheek against my knee, and looked up at him. The sun was filtering through the branches and leaves on the tree behind him. A breeze rippled around us and through his hair, ruffling it gently and I marveled at how it had refused to be tamed all these years. He still had the same stubborn cowlick that coaxed his hair into an insane wave on top of his forehead, the one that he'd tried valiantly to control for so many years before finally giving up.

"We probably should have had this conversation a long time ago," I sighed, picking at a piece of loose rubber on the sole of my shoe. "It would've been easier, huh?"

He let out a laugh that morphed into a sigh. "Since when do we do anything the easy way?"

I rolled my eyes and straightened up. "It probably would've helped if you weren't such a pain in the ass."

"Takes one to know one," he shot back.

I knocked my knee against his, giving him a knowing grin. "I'm rubber and you're glue?"

"Christ, that was your response to _everything _for a solid year and a half," he groaned.

"Excuse me, I had to live through your 'syke!' phase until way after it was relevant. I suffered, too."

He squinted over at me, still smiling, though his eyes had gone serious. "So…truce?"

I looked down at my shoes and nodded, my throat constricting again. I knew his question carried more weight than his voice let on. "Truce."

"Can I drive you back to the hotel?"

I nodded again and we stood, him with an old-man groan. I glanced back down at the curb as I dusted off the seat of my jeans and faded initials that I'd never noticed before caught my eye. "What's that?"

His eyes followed the path of my pointed finger and he crouched down, a grin blooming on his face. "Holy shit, I can't believe they're still there."

I stooped down next to him and squinted, then let out a little gasp. "Where did this come from?" I asked, tracing the letters with my finger.

_RH_, I drew out, and then next to it, _EC. _

"It was a long time ago, remember?" he said. "They repaved the sidewalk and you wanted to go write in the cement before it dried. Your mom wouldn't let you and you threw a fit. So unlike you."

I laughed, remembering how I'd wailed dramatically. I'd just wanted to draw a paw print like Lady and Tramp had done in _Lady and the Tramp_, but my mom had refused to let us go out there and "mess it up." I'd shut myself in my room, slamming my closet door every few minutes so she'd understand just how unfair I found the entire situation. When I'd finally come back out nearly an hour later, Edward had already left.

"You did this?" I asked, looking sideways at him, my chest starting to ache.

He nodded, one side of his mouth pulling into a grin, then pointed to what looked like a random divot next to the initials. "I started to do the paw print, but I thought I heard your mom coming out so I just scribbled our initials out with a stick and then hauled ass on my bike." His voice softened, "Now we're immortalized."

"Unless they repave," I replied, pressing my palm against the curb.

"It'll still be there," he said with confidence. I looked over at him to see him watching me. "You'll just have to dig a little deeper."

He was right. Those initials were a reminder that there were things that were just Edward's and mine, moments that no one else could claim. And nothing could ever take that away from us. Not time or distance or arguments or layers of concrete.

I swallowed, tears welling in my eyes. God, I'd cried more these past few days than I had in maybe my entire life. This trip had drudged up so many memories, a heart-aching mix of happy and sad. Though it was painful, so agonizing at times, I felt like it was possible for me to come out on the other side in one piece. I felt like maybe I'd be stronger for this, like perhaps it had all happened for reasons that I didn't even understand yet.

"Goodbye," I whispered down to the initials. Edward echoed me, pressing his fingers next to mine, and then stood abruptly, walking to the driver's side of his car. I looked up at my house, at the home that had held me inside its walls and had been privy to so many pivotal moments in my life, and I said goodbye to that, too.

We drove the short distance to the hotel in companionable silence. We still had so much to talk about, but I think we both knew our friendship couldn't be patched up sitting on a curbside for 30 minutes. I hoped, though, as I hadn't let myself hope before, that there would be opportunities sometime in the future for us to get to know one another again. We would never be what we were before, but I hoped that someday we would get to the point where we could call ourselves real friends again.

Edward pulled into the parking space next to my rental and shifted into park. I looked down at my hands clasped in my lap.

"What time does your flight leave?" he asked, his fingers hooked on the bottom of the steering wheel. He tried to sound neutral, but I could hear the distinct edge of sadness tingeing his voice. He wasn't going to ask me to stay – maybe because he thought he didn't have the right – but my heart squeezed realizing that he wanted me to.

I paused, letting my eyes wander to the backseat of the car where my garment bag hung, and then over to the door of my room. I thought of Alice and Jasper, of Emmett. And I thought of how it would feel to leave now, to go back home without closing out this chapter of my life. Time had doubled back and allowed me a reprieve, another chance to get it right, and though I knew, god, I could already _feel_ how difficult it would be to watch Edward marry Bella tomorrow, the thought of not seeing it hurt so much more.

"Sunday afternoon," I finally said, looking back at him.

He nodded, looking down at the steering wheel. I counted silently in my head, waiting for my words to sink in. When they did, his head jerked up, his gaze flying to me. "What?"

I shrugged, picking at a nail casually. "I heard there was some big to-do tomorrow. I thought I'd stick around and see what it was all about."

He stared at me for a long time, his brow furrowed. And then he swallowed and nodded his head, his mouth pulling up into a grin. "That's – I'm – I know a few people that will be happy to hear that."

I smiled wryly. "So, I'll see you tonight?"

"Tonight," he confirmed, voice low.

I climbed out of the car and shut the door, my hand lingering on the handle for only a second. As I walked back toward the main office to check back in, I thought of the ocean in Port Angeles. I thought of that infinite stretch of water and the way it made me feel, like there was so much beyond what I thought I knew. I remembered climbing into the backseat with Edward when it got too dark to see, his presence and the subtle smell of Esme's perfume creating a comforting cocoon around me. I'd gotten home safe and sound, but when I'd closed my eyes, I replayed the sound of the waves gently lapping against the shore, the way the colors of the sunset danced on the sparkling water, and I'd let my heart race thinking about dipping my toes into it.

I'd clung to the safety and familiarity of loving Edward for so long, but for the first time I realized that I owed myself more than that. I deserved to be happy, too, and that meant giving myself permission to let go. It meant not being afraid of the possibility of something more.

I heard the subtle crunch of car tires over asphalt and I turned as I reached the office door, my hand wrapping around the doorknob. Edward slowed, rolling the passenger side window down.

"Bye, Rosie," he called out, throwing me an impish smile. Suddenly he was the five-year-old version of himself, waving to me over his shoulder as he ran to his mom's car, his Spiderman backpack hitting his back with his slightly awkward strides.

And so I tucked the memory, that nickname, into the corner of my heart that would always be reserved for the friendship Edward and I had shared. And my eyes were dry when I waved back and watched his taillights disappear around the corner.

* * *

**A/N: **** I finished this a little more quickly than anticipated, so ta-dah! This chapter was a little heavy, too, but I hope it's obvious why it was necessary. I'm not sure when the next chapter will be up (definitely within the next week and a half or a wee bit longer), but I'm hard at work on it now. **

**Most thanks goes to hmonster4, who sees approximately eleventy versions of each chapter and does it with a smile. Thanks also to LightStarDusting, LoreliD and AccioBourbon for pre-reading. You are the best!**

**The feedback on last chapter, whether it was via review, alert or favorite, absolutely blew me away. I saw a lot of new faces last week and for that I'm pretty sure I need to thank the collective forces of Twitter, The Gazebo and Edwardville. I've been terrible at responding to reviews this last round, which I'm trying to remedy. Please know in the meantime (until you get a wordy review reply from me) that I appreciate them so much. **

**Tl;dr as usual. See you soon! **


	13. Ch 12: In Repair

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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After I got back to my room and unpacked, I sat on the edge of the bed with my phone in my hand. I looked around the room and took everything in, much like I had done earlier this morning. My eyes wandered around the room, sweeping over the wall that a drunken Alice had propped herself up with Tuesday night surrounded by empty mini bottles of alcohol, to the desk Emmett had leaned against on Wednesday when he'd run his finger along the crease in my cheek, and then finally to the mirror that hung over the bathroom sink. Even from across the room, I could see that my face was tear-stained, my eyes a little swollen. But I looked different than I had earlier, maybe even from how I'd looked this entire week. The tension was gone from around my eyes and mouth, and though I looked sad, I didn't look defeated. I didn't look angry.

I felt different, too. It was almost like I'd been exorcised, like the dark and bitter parts that I'd held on to for so long had been set free by Edward's and my admissions. It still hurt, but I knew now more than ever that sometimes it had to hurt in order to heal.

With a sigh, I pressed Alice's speed dial and brought the phone up to my ear.

Her voice came through swiftly, barely into the first ring. "Rose?"

I wasn't surprised that she answered right away. She'd always been plugged in, a fact I'd been grateful for after I moved down to San Francisco for school. She'd never missed one of my daily phone calls those first few weeks when I'd tried to pretend I was fine, that I was having the time of my life. In reality, I'd sat in my dorm room night after night, hiding my silent tears from my roommate while I replayed the looks on all of their faces when I'd left for the airport with my parents and left them standing in my driveway. I'd tried not to think about how Jasper and Emmett would be taking Edward, Alice and Bella back with them to UW, how they'd automatically have a group of friends to help integrate them into what ended up being an overwhelmingly intimidating experience for me. I'd made friends quickly, but their presence only magnified the absence of the people I really wanted to be sneaking beer, going to parties or complaining over evil professors with.

And so every night between the hours of 9 PM and 3 AM, Alice would get a call from me. Sometimes there would be thumping bass in the background when she picked up or loud voices, though they'd always fade while she wandered away to find a quiet place to talk. Once or twice her greeting had been prefaced by a loud shushing noise and she'd confessed to sneaking my calls in at the library. I'd imagined her crouched underneath a table somewhere, furtively looking around, and we'd laughed together when she told me that wasn't far from the truth. Many times she'd been with everyone else and they'd yell out "hi"s and "we miss you"s and make Alice quiz me on what life was like in San Francisco. I'd tell them everything except that I missed them desperately, that I cried more than was probably normal, that I hadn't realized homesickness could be as much physical as emotional.

Eventually I'd settled in and my daydreams about hopping a plane and flying home lessened, though I still felt the weight of missing them, of missing home, in my chest. I carried it wherever I went. My nightly calls to Alice waned because I realized it was easier not to know what they were all doing without me. The distance that had hurt so much was suddenly the only thing that soothed that ache.

But still Alice was there, the disembodied voice on the other side of the line every time I called. I thought back to a Halloween party I'd been dragged to by my roommate. I'd danced and drank in my hastily put-together black cat costume, trying not to think about what Alice and the others were doing. But there had been a girl about her height and weight, pale blonde to Alice's black, and the gossamer fairy wings affixed to her back had inexplicably caused me to burst into tears. I'd stumbled out of the house and plopped onto one of the steps, brushing away empty Solo cups and cigarette butts, and pulled out my phone to call her for the first time in nearly two weeks.

I couldn't even hear her over the music when she answered. It was a Dr. Dre song that made me think of Emmett and his propensity for listening to rap before big games in high school, which only made the tears come faster and harder. It took her a minute to get to a quiet spot and I'd tried valiantly to calm my ragged sobs before she could tell I was upset. I'd worked too hard to protect that part of me.

"Happy Halloween, buddy!" she crowed as soon as the music was low enough to be heard over. "Oh, my god, Rose, you should see this. The boys are dressed up like NBA players from the 70s and Emmett's shorts are about three sizes smaller than acceptable. Jasper got mad at me because I was staring."

The image of Emmett in teeny tiny shorts had turned my tears of sadness into ones of laughter, something she'd been an unknown expert at during those rough first months. Alice had giggled drunkenly along with me until we were both hysterical and gasping for air. When we'd finally settled down enough to talk and make sense, she'd asked me what trouble I was getting myself into. I'd looked over my shoulder at the front door of the house and then down at my shoes.

"Alice, you always answer the phone when I call," I blurted out.

"Huh?" I could hear the confusion in her voice.

"I don't think I've gotten your voicemail once since I moved down here. And it's not like you're sitting around doing nothing." A particularly horrifying thought hit me. "Alice, you don't answer the phone during sex, do you?"

"_What_?" she screeched. "Of course I don't, you knob!"

"Don't call me a knob, I don't even know what that means."

She paused and then hiccuped. "I don't either."

"I'm serious, though. Why do you always answer?"

"Because I don't ever not want to be there for you," she'd replied, slurring but suddenly serious.

Somehow I knew if I asked her that question now, the answer would be the same.

"Rose, are you there?" Her voice came down the line again, bringing me back to the present.

"Yeah, I'm here," I said.

"Here being…" she prompted.

"I'm taking a mental bath," I replied with a small smile, thinking of her drunken antics.

"A mental – _oh_! You're at the hotel?" She laughed, quick and short, and I could practically feel her relief through the phone. "Are you staying? Are you okay?"

I considered her questions and then nodded slowly to myself. "Yes and I think so."

"What happened?"

"I…" I faltered. I didn't know where to begin. So much had happened and I wasn't sure I'd be able to properly explain it. "I was going to leave this morning. Well, I _did _leave. But I stopped at my parents' house first and then Edward showed up…"

"And?"

I let out a heaving sigh that came somewhere from deep down in my body, an exhalation of so many emotions, many of which I hadn't even begun to dig through. "And we finally talked. About…I don't know, a lot of things. Not everything, but the big stuff."

"Thank god. That's good." She paused. "It was good, right?"

I turned her statement over in my mind. I didn't know if _good _was the proper descriptor. So much had been revealed and discussed, and the air had been mostly cleared. But we'd also both admitted that the Rosalie and Edward we knew no longer existed, and that had been so painful to acknowledge because we'd both been holding onto them so tightly all these years. Relinquishing that hold was needed, it was _right_, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

"It was necessary," I amended. Someday it would be good. Someday – soon, I hoped – I would look back on it and it wouldn't hurt anymore. It would be something that was faded and softened by time and perspective. But today, the pain was fresh. It was still so new.

I heard a rustle and the sound of a car window being rolled down. There were murmured voices and then she was back. "Sorry, I'm outside the nail salon right now and Bella just pulled up."

My heart flip-flopped in my chest as mild panic gripped me. In my determination to get out of town undetected earlier, I'd forgotten that Bella had invited me to Port Angeles to get my nails done with them. "Oh _shit_, I forgot about the nail appointment!"

"It's okay," Alice replied quickly. "Don't worry about it. We decided to go to Mimi's instead."

I frowned. Mimi's was a small salon in town. I'd been there plenty of times, mostly in preparation for school dances, and they'd always done a fine job, but it was strange that they'd choose it over a bigger place in Port Angeles. "Why are you going to Mimi's?"

"Well, Angela was going to drive back to Forks after the appointment to help Bella put together the table numbers and escort cards she designed anyway, so we all thought it would be easier to do it this way. Mimi's is as good as the place in Port Angeles and less expensive." She paused. "And honestly, it was a good excuse for me to be nearby in case you needed me."

I sighed, guilt washing over me. "Alice, I don't want you changing your plans for me."

"It was just a happy coincidence," she insisted. "Oh hey, do you want to come over? I heard rumors of chocolate-covered strawberries waiting for us inside."

"No, that's okay," I replied. My mom was probably clutching the phone to her chest still, waiting for an update on what had happened, and after my decidedly restless sleep last night, I could tell my body was trying to seduce me into a nap. "I'm going to hang out here for a bit. Can you tell Bella I'm sorry for missing it?"

"Of course. I'm coming over afterward, okay? Don't even try to shake me off." Her tone was no-nonsense now, the kind of voice she used when she refused to take no for an answer.

"What about Bella and Angela?"

"Trust me, they'll be fine. I want to spend time with you," she replied, then laughed. "Preferably _not _under the influence of Jack and Jim."

"And they're such horrible influences," I tsked with a smile.

"Okay, I wouldn't go _that _far. I think they were pretty good to you on Tuesday. We got a little goofy, you had a nice chat with Mr. McCarty -"

"Alice," I warned, sensing that she was steering the conversation in a direction I wasn't prepared to discuss just yet.

"You're no fun," she huffed.

"See you in a couple hours," I trilled, ending the call before she could say anything else. My finger moved to the speed dial assigned to my mom, but the phone pinged with a text message before I could get to it.

It was from Emmett. I looked around suspiciously, wondering if he'd somehow overheard Alice and me talking about him.

_Got a breaking news alert that you're staying_, it read.

My heart flipped. Had Edward told him? He must have. Alice just found out that I was staying and though she was quick, she wasn't _that_ quick. I wondered what exactly Edward had told him, if he had given him details or if it had been more vague and swept over, like my conversation with Alice. Part of me wanted us to preserve that conversation, those thirty minutes where our old friendship had been buried and the possibility of a new one had been planted.

I bit my lip and typed out, _Oh, are you subscribing to the Forks edition of Us Weekly now? I didn't take you for a gossip whore. _

His response was quick, almost immediate, and I wondered if he had been waiting for my text. The thought made my lips and toes curl. _I had a big spectacle planned, you know. You ruined my moment by running away. _

My eyes latched onto the last two words before my brain did, but by the time it caught up, my fingers were already dialing his number.

"Like clockwork," he said by way of greeting. He sounded infinitely amused and my eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Running away? Wait, what do you mean, 'like clockwork?' And what's the big spectacle?" I stuttered through my response, my poor brain working to keep up with the curve balls he'd thrown at me in rapid succession.

"Well, aren't you full of questions this morning."

"So why don't you answer them?"

"Which one?"

"Any. All." I paused and then blurted out, "The running away one."

"That's not what you were doing?" he responded, his voice earnest and curious but a little too innocent. I sucked in my cheeks and picked at a loose thread on the comforter, mulling over his words.

In the technical sense? Yes, I'd been running away. But I hadn't known then that there was still so much to say. Or rather, I had known it, but wasn't willing to hear it. And at the time, Edward wasn't willing to _say _it. The situation had seemed hopeless, unfixable, too frozen with anger and misunderstandings. It wasn't until all the pieces were lying in front of us – nothing missing, nothing hidden – that I had realized there was something to glue back together.

"Edward said you guys talked last night," I said instead of answering his question. "He mentioned something about you ripping him a new asshole."

"Gross exaggeration," he replied swiftly. "It was pretty damn tense at first, sure, but it was good. We got a lot of shit out."

I made a small noise of acknowledgment, sensing that he wanted to keep their conversation preserved, too, just between the two of them. Though I was dying to ask what had been said, in what ways he had been the catalyst for Edward to come to the realizations he'd told me about this morning, I understood that some private moments between the six of us would stay just that.

"What you said about running away…" I began, trailing off. He stayed quiet, letting me gather my thoughts. I could hear the steady cadence of his breath. "I guess I was, in a way. I was just so tired of feeling the way I felt. I was so _angry_, and I didn't think there was anything left for me here."

"And now?" he asked.

"Now," I replied, running my hand over the comforter. "Now, I think I want to hear about your spectacle."

"Hmm," he hummed and the vibration of his voice went through the phone, in my ear, right down my spine. "I'm not sure I want to share my spectacle with you, Hale. I might want to recycle it."

"It's not nice to dangle the spectacle."

"I'm not dangling."

"You _are_," I insisted. "You're teasing me with the spectacle, McCarty."

He laughed, a wicked and impish sound. "You're the queen of accidental innuendo, you know that, Hale?"

"Who said it was accidental?" I shot back, though it had been.

"So, basically you're trying to have phone sex with me."

I laughed low in my throat. "Trust me, you'd know if I was trying to have phone sex with you."

There was a pause. A long one. I raised an eyebrow and bit at my thumbnail, waiting for him to respond. "Emmett?" I finally ventured. I pulled the phone back from my ear to make sure we were still connected and then put it back.

"Sorry, I was just imagining what that would sound like," he replied. "I can't get a really good grasp on it, though. Maybe you should give me a little sample or something, just so I can wrap my head around it. I learn by example, you know."

I shivered slightly at the thought, my stomach clenching. "You'll have to work harder than that."

"How much harder can I work?"

"How hard _have _you been working?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Okay, we need to stop using the word hard," he said, letting out a sharp breath. "Difficult, tricky, thorny - all good alternatives. Actually, not thorny."

I paused, then asked suspiciously, "Have you been drinking?"

"McCarty!" I heard Jasper bellow in the background. "Get your pretty ass off the phone. Hoops time!"

"I'm not your bitch, Whitlock! I'll be done when I'm done." Emmett bellowed back. He paused and then called at a slightly less deafening decibel, "Be right there."

"My ears are bleeding," I called, though he was still exchanging now-muffled words with Jasper so I doubted he heard me.

"I have to go," he sighed, coming back on the line. "You won that round of verbal sparring. Congratulations, Barb."

"What can I say? I have to be on top," I replied. Emmett let out a groan that dissolved into deep, delighted laughter. "Oh, for Christ's sake, _goodbye_."

I tossed the phone on the bed and then spent the next ten minutes pacing the length of the hotel room, gnawing on my thumbnail. I was on edge, nervous in a completely foreign way. My blood danced through my veins, my heart pounding out a rhythm it only seemed to know when Emmett's voice was coming down the phone line or when his body was near mine (but not touching, rarely touching), or when he was looking at me. It both scared and fascinated me, creating a heady mix of emotions that I had no way to label.

And was I even ready to? I wasn't sure. My heart had belonged to Edward for so long, had been fractured and cobwebbed from neglect and disuse. I owed it to myself to fix that before I considered something else, particularly when that _something else_ was attached to a 6'4" impish and devastatingly handsome guy who more often than not scared the shit out of me. That is, when he wasn't forcing ugly snorts of laughter from me or setting the butterflies hanging out in my stomach in motion.

I was finally able to sit still long enough to call my mom. She listened quietly and murmured words of encouragement as I gave her the Cliff's Note version of what had transpired earlier and then told me she was proud of both of us. She asked me – albeit a little reluctantly – to pass her best wishes on to Edward and Bella. I told her I loved her and hung up the phone, silently wondering how long it would take her to understand that Edward's role in my life didn't define me.

It'd only taken me ten years to understand it. I had to hope the realization would come soon for her.

* * *

"Stop moving your toes!"

"It _tickles_."

"Rosalie, you're either going to get a stripe down your foot or kick me in the face if you don't stop." Alice's left hand clamped around my foot, her right holding a nail polish brush aloft. She raised a stern eyebrow at me. I raised one back in challenge and she rolled her eyes. "Just hold still, okay?"

"No promises," I replied, propping my arms on my knees, biting my lip as she brought the brush down to my toe.

We were sprawled out on the bed surrounded by various nail accoutrements, Alice hunched over my feet in an attempt to finish painting my nails. Unfortunately, I was remembering why I never got pedicures. Every time she touched the arch of my foot or accidentally brushed her fingers between my toes, I jerked violently. I'd already nearly kicked her in the stomach and shoulder. I had a feeling the face wasn't far away.

She'd swept in to my room a little less than an hour ago, looking like a tiny pack mule with an overnight bag slung over her shoulder, a garment bag hanging over her arm and a drink caddy with two iced coffees clutched precariously in one hand. When I'd asked what the hell all of the crap she was lugging was, she'd smiled widely and announced that she was going to get ready for the rehearsal dinner with me. Oh, and by the way, she was spending the night.

I didn't even try to argue. She'd already solidified the plans in her mind and honestly, the thought of having someone to go to the party with was…well, it was nice. And I was secretly pleased that Alice didn't give me a choice in the matter, though I'd blustered a little bit, more out of habit than anything else.

And then she'd pulled out her tools of tickle torture while I sat on the bed, innocently sipping my coffee and had gone to work, saying that since I hadn't gone to the nail salon, the nail salon was coming to me.

We'd joked and laughed and I felt a sense of relief, the beginning sensations of a lightness I hadn't felt in so long. She hadn't pushed me further on my conversation with Edward, simply saying that she would be a willing ear if I needed it. She knew, probably from years upon years of experience, that I couldn't be pushed into things. I had to get there myself.

I watched her bent over my foot now, her tongue barely sticking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. It was something she'd always done, whether she was coloring as a 7-year-old – always outside the lines – or working on Trig homework as a 15-year-old. I thought about the years that spanned our close friendship, nearly as long as Edward's and mine, all of the moments we'd shared, the laughter and tears, the boys that had come and gone and the way we'd hung onto one another. And it dawned on me, fast and furious like so many of my realizations here, that Edward wasn't the only one I expected to stay the same. I'd done that to all of them to some extent. Hell, I'd done it to _myself_. I'd stayed frozen, locked in the past and so caught up in my own mantra of "it should have been" that I didn't see and accept them as they were. It was certainly subtler with Alice than it had been with Edward, but it was there all the same.

"Alice?" I ventured.

"Hmm?" she replied, looking up distractedly. She must have seen the look on my face because she did a double take, her brows drawing together. "What's wrong? Did I hurt you?"

"No, no. I was just thinking about something," I began, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.

"That's a good start," she teased.

I gave her my best stern look. "I'm serious."

She stuck the nail polish cap back in the bottle and sat up straight, eyes focused on me. Propping her elbows on her knees and leaning forward, she said, "Okay, serious. Go for it."

"I think…" I stopped, blowing out a sharp breath. It was one thing to acknowledge that I'd had unrealistic expectations of her friendship to myself; it was quite another to speak it out loud. "I think I've been a little…stubborn. With you, I mean."

Her brows came together again. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember when I first moved down to San Francisco? Those first few weeks when I'd call you every night?"

She nodded slowly, confusion written all over her face.

"You always answered the phone. Every time I called, you were there. And I guess in a way I expected you to be. You were always there when I needed you, even when I didn't call as often or when I stopped visiting as much." I shrugged, focusing my eyes on the bright pink polish on my toes, unmarred and shining in the sunlight that filtered through the window. "As much as I thought Edward was mine, I thought you were, too. I know I've given you a hard time about Bella -"

"Rose -" she started, but I reached out to grasp her wrist.

"Let me finish, please?"

She opened her mouth and then closed it, and this time it was guilt written on her face.

"It's just hard to know that you have a friend like her, that she gets to hang out with you all the time and she knows things that I don't, even if it's just what you had for dinner or that your co-worker threw up all over your boss's shoes at the holiday party. And god, I know that's irrational and I shouldn't hold it against you, but sometimes I can't help it." I laughed thickly, my throat suddenly knotted. "I'm selfish in that way, I guess. Maybe I'm a friend hoarder."

She pursed her mouth thoughtfully. "I think that's normal, though. I feel that way with you and Kate sometimes, when you have to get off the phone because you're going shopping with her or something."

I stared at her, stunned. I hadn't realized that it worked both ways. I'd spent so much time obsessing over the things that I'd missed that I hadn't stopped to think of the things Alice had missed in my life or how that would make her feel.

"She's not even close to a replacement for you, Alice," I said finally, squeezing her wrist. I loved Kate and adored hanging out with her and Garrett, but she would never compare to Alice, to the history and nearly psychic bond we shared.

She placed her hand over mine, her gaze steady on me. "And Bella's not a replacement for you. Rosalie, _no one_ can replace you for me or for any of us."

I looked down, swallowing hard. That was the root of my issue with Bella, my belief that she'd replaced me in every way that mattered, that she'd forged such close friendships with all of them, not to mention a deep and abiding love with Edward. And I'd certainly bought into that belief, maybe so much that I'd caused the distance I felt so acutely, or at least some of it.

She hadn't wronged me in any way, not really. She'd always been nice to me and had never expected more friendship than what I'd offer her, which wasn't much. And it wasn't so much _her _that I resented but what she represented. It was that despite knowing I'd made the right decision in going to school at USF and that I loved my life in San Francisco, the choices I'd made had led me further from the people I cared so much about. That my perception of what she meant to all of them, and especially what she meant to Edward, had inadvertently spurred my darker moments, had let me slowly and subtly widen the void. I'd let myself believe that they'd ostracized me, that she had been the catalyst for that, but really I had to accept responsibility for the ways in which I'd ostracized _myself_. I'd held on so tightly to the idea of what I thought was right and deserved that I wouldn't accept any other alternative. It had bled into every aspect of my life and while I knew it could be fixed – god, if Edward and I could be fixed, anything could – it killed me that I'd gotten so bogged down by my anger and bitterness, that I'd been too frozen to move forward.

But that was the thing about getting lost. Sometimes you couldn't see the path yourself. Sometimes you needed other people to light the way for you.

I saw that now. I saw the place so clearly etched out for me between Alice and Jasper, Edward and Bella, nestled next to Emmett. It wasn't exactly the way I'd imagined it but it was there nonetheless, and how could I be sad about that? How could I be anything less than grateful that there were five people who accepted me despite my flaws, who made me feel like I was home?

"I'm sorry that I was distant with you guys," I said, running my finger along the comforter.

She squeezed my hand. "And I'm sorry if we ever made you feel like you weren't as important as you are."

"I don't know, I think we've all made mistakes," I replied with a shrug. "But we're here now. Maybe that's what matters most."

Alice looked at me for a long moment and then flung her arms around my neck, squeezing tightly. It was a hug of reassurance, of strength, and I leaned my cheek against her shoulder with a sigh.

"I will _always _be here for you," she said, her voice cracking. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying in vain to stave off the tears forming. "You're my best friend, okay? Nothing will change that."

"I know." And I did. I always had. I'd just needed a reminder. I'd needed to see that what I'd believed for too long wasn't true, that I'd manufactured this truth for myself, that I'd stubbornly held on to my anger because I thought it would keep me safe from the pain of acknowledging the _real_ truth. How wrong I'd been.

Alice pulled back and wiped at the tears making their way down her cheeks. I tried to surreptitiously wipe at my own damp face, but she caught me and laughed with a sniffle. "Jeez, we're such girls."

"I know. I feel like I'm leaking," I replied. "I've never cried this much in my life."

"Well, it's been…intense."

I nodded slowly, thinking about the emotional state I'd started this weekend in and where I was at now. God knew where I'd be tomorrow at Edward and Bella's wedding or on Sunday when I left. It would be so hard to leave the place where so many of my hopes and dreams had been both realized and crushed, where my childhood and adolescence had been nurtured and now preserved, tucked into every crevice of this town. Our fingerprints were everywhere, indelible and enduring.

"Intense," I repeated, breathing out the word. My heart twisted and flipped. I felt so much – relief and happiness, anticipation and exhaustion, a mixture of emotions lined with a strange sort of sadness. "God, Alice. I don't even know what I should be feeling right now."

"Don't think about it," she replied, squeezing my ankle. "Just _be_. If you want to be sad, be sad. But Rose, if you want to be happy and you know how to get it, _let _yourself do that. Don't force it."

I squinted at her with a sniff. "When did you get so philosophical, Brandon?"

"It's my old age," she sighed.

"God, if you're old, what does that make me?"

She looked at me appraisingly and then gave me a small, almost melancholy smile. "I think that makes us both grown ups."

I grinned back wryly, resting my chin on my knee. "Weird, huh?"

"At least we don't have to sneak out of the house to meet up with boys anymore," she replied with a laugh. I could almost see the images playing out in her mind – the way I'd grimace as I tried to silently pry my screen from the window, the feeling of the fresh air caressing our cheeks as we'd run to the corner stop sign to meet up with Jasper and Edward, all those nighttime conversations about school and life and what we knew about love, which wasn't much at the time. I knew she held a special place in her heart for those nights, because they had laid the foundation for her relationship with Jasper.

"No, you _live_ with one now," I said, then coughed out, "Traitor."

Her smile turned wide. "You just wait." She kissed me swiftly on the cheek and then bounced off the bed. "I'm going to take a shower real quick, okay?"

"By all means," I replied, waving my arm expansively toward the bathroom door.

I watched her walk in, heard the door click shut softly. I plopped onto my back and sprawled out, closing my eyes. I placed my hand over my heart and rubbed at my chest, trying to soothe the dull ache there. It was good to get this all out, so good, but it was still painful. I was slowly peeling back these layers I'd swathed myself in, was exposing such vulnerable parts of myself. It was terrifying and at the same time freeing. The thing was, I knew this didn't fix everything. I knew there would be moments where my jealousy would rear its ugly head, where I would be pissed off or sad. But before it had been blind and widespread. Now I felt like I could contain it better because at least I understood it.

"Hey, Rose?"

I opened one eye and saw Alice's head peeking out of the door. "Hey, Alice?" I echoed.

She grinned, resting her cheek against the doorjamb. "I love you, buddy."

I snorted softly. "Love you, too, pal."

She disappeared back into the bathroom, humming a tune to herself, and I rolled my eyes affectionately. Alice was a pacifist by nature; nothing made her happier than when all was well and calm. Sometimes it amazed me that we were friends at all, especially given my flair for theatrics and her severe allergy to anything involving drama. And yet we'd been one of each other's best for so many years, had navigated elementary school, the awkward hell that was junior high, and the glory days of high school with only the rare fight sprinkled throughout. Maybe it was because Edward and I spent so much time bickering. Or maybe it was simply that she knew how to manage my personality better than nearly anyone else.

My phone chimed and I rolled over with a huff, my feet up in the air so I wouldn't smudge my nail polish. Plucking it off the nightstand, I saw that it was from Emmett. Alice hit a high note that Mariah Carey would've been proud of as I opened up the text.

_You really want to know the spectacle? _it said.

I gnawed at my lower lip, trying and failing not to let a wide grin spread across my face while I typed out a response.

_Again with the spectacle tease, McCarty? Are you going to make me beg? _

I stared at the screen, waiting for him to reply. He did right away.

_Damn, where to begin with that? _

My laugh echoed around the room and I heard Alice pause her one-woman Lady Gaga revue. I pressed my hand over my mouth and replied, typing as quietly as I could.

_Just tell me. _

I waited. And waited. And waited. One minute passed by and then two. I frowned and scrolled over to my sent texts to make sure it wasn't hanging out in space somewhere. It had definitely been sent. So where the hell was my response?

Finally, probably no more than three minutes later, which in text time might as well have been an hour, my phone chimed in my now-clammy hands. I opened it up eagerly and scanned the words.

My heart stopped. I read it again. I read it three more times until my heart started up again, slowly at first and then quicker, solid and steady against my sternum.

_If Edward hadn't come after you this morning, I would have. _

It felt like the words were sucked in with my sharp intake of breath. They made their way down my throat, weaved through my lungs, spread warmth throughout my entire body.

I doubted it was meant as a declaration of any kind. Despite the fact that we were obviously attracted to each other, that an intense spark bloomed between us whenever we were within ten feet of one another, he was first and foremost my friend and he cared deeply for me. This had been Edward's and my problem to fix and it had played out the way it was supposed to, with us finally sitting down and putting all of our cards on the table. It had started with the two of us and that was how it needed to end. But I didn't doubt that had it not been him pulling up to my house, it would've been Emmett. It seemed like he'd known before I did that my running away would have been a colossal mistake, and I knew that, as a friend, he wouldn't have wanted to sit and watch it happen.

Still...

Still, I was sure that it was entirely possible no one had ever said anything like that to me.

My fingers were steady as I replied, _I think I would've let you stop me. _

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**A/N: Hey, happy Monday!**

**I need to thank the usual suspects - hmonster4 first and foremost for her tireless help with all of this. I will probably never be able to convey how much she does for this story and for me. Just trust that it's _a lot._ Also, thanks to LightStarDusting and AccioBourbon for pre-reading. To saranic for her amazing rec on The Fictionators and LoreliD for her beautiful one on TLYDF, thank you both for taking the time to talk about my story in such eloquent, thoughtful and insightful ways. I'm not quite sure what I've done to deserve such a supportive bunch of people but I'm greedy and selfish so I'll accept it without question. **

**And finally, thanks to everyone who's been reading. I continue to be completely overwhelmed and really just...weirded out by this whole thing, and I mean that in the best way possible. I know I say this in every review reply, but your feedback is invaluable to me, whether it's alerting or favoriting or sending me PMs. I appreciate all of it. **

**Finally finally (god, sorry), I've started work on the next chapter so expect that within the same time frame as this one - a week and a half or maybe a little longer. Rehearsal dinner, heyyyy.  
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**See you soon! :)  
**


	14. Ch 13: After the Storm

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

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Growing up, I always knew when it was time for a party at the Cullens'. Our house would start buzzing with electricity at around five when my mom would slip into the bathroom in her silk robe. I'd follow her and sit on the counter next to the makeup spread across it, watching in the mirror while she applied her foundation, her eye shadow, her lipstick. By six, my dad had music playing, usually Davis or Coltrane, and would come into the bathroom and slip his arms around my mom's slender waist, burying his face in her neck. I'd take advantage of her distraction and fluff her powder brush over my face or touch my finger against her lipstick and dab it on my lips, surreptitiously watching my parents' reflection in the mirror. They'd invariably catch me and my mom would bend down and kiss me so that her lipstick transferred onto me.

I remembered crawling up the Cullens' long, dark driveway packed with cars, music wafting gently on the summer breeze and in through the cracked windows of our car. Their house would be gently lit with candles in the windows. It was a beautiful aesthetic, inviting but not intimidating despite the size of their home. I'd clutch my mom's hand as we'd make our way straight to the backyard, cocooned in warmth and Chanel No. 5. Of course, as soon as I'd see Edward or Alice or both, I'd disengage myself and run to them. We'd entertain ourselves for hours amidst the well-dressed adults, playing hide-and-go-seek or making Edward twirl us around on the dance floor. Eventually, our parents would send us off to bed and we'd play along for a couple of hours, listening to the gentle rise and fall of conversation and music and clinking glasses from our fort of blankets, pillows and couch cushions in Edward's room.

We'd always end up sneaking back down, though. Alice's and my parents were the last to leave and they'd be sitting at a table, the men's ties loosened, the women with their shoes kicked off. We'd watch from the French doors that led from the kitchen to the backyard as they laughed and sipped champagne, pretending not to notice us. Carlisle would stand up and stretch casually, announcing that he forgot something inside. The three of us would scrunch against the wall, our hushed laughter bouncing around the quiet room and he'd play along, muttering to himself and looking around. Then his gaze would drop to us crouched on the floor and he'd get that twinkle in his eye that I'd see from Edward so many times in the years to come. He'd grab one of us, whichever one hadn't been quick enough to dart away, and haul us outside, the other two shrieking with delight and nipping at his heels.

I'd secretly reveled in being up so late and mingling with grown ups, and I knew Alice and Edward had, too. Sometimes I'd beg Carlisle to dance with me, using a combination of wide eyes and fluttering lashes that had started me on the road to perfecting my flirting technique, and he'd let me stand on his shoes while he gamely moved me around the dance floor.

There was always a lazy sense of contentment that floated through the night air and around the sound of crickets chirping in between the laughter and talking. I remembered feeling like I belonged nowhere else but there in that moment and that place, my parents within arms' reach and Edward and Alice dancing around us. Those nights were among my favorite growing up and I'd basked in the feeling it gave me. And as we got older, our interest in hide-and-go-seek turned into hide-the-champagne-glass-from-our-parents and then into parties of our own. Nothing really compared to the magic of an Esme Cullen party, though, particularly when seen through the idealistic eyes of a kid.

I thought of those nights now as I climbed out of the car. I looked up at the house that I'd thought of as home for so many years. While it was a source of comfort, a safe place that I'd spent so many important years in, I knew that its place in my life had shifted, just like so many other things. It was still special - it always would be - but it wasn't my home anymore.

With a sigh, I looked over the hood of the car at Alice, who was standing on the other side and looking back at me worriedly.

"You okay?" she asked. I could hear the low hum of laughter and chatter wafting out from the backyard.

"Great," I replied automatically.

She raised an eyebrow at me. "Really?"

I sucked my bottom lip into my mouth and gnawed at it, turning my attention back to the side gate that led out to the backyard.

Honestly, I was apprehensive. I didn't know how my heart would behave once I stepped into the first dose of reality at what this trip meant. I hoped that it wouldn't let itself hurt too much, that I'd take this all in stride. Surely if I could handle everything else, I could handle this. I knew that. I trusted that intellectually, but my heart was still so unsure of itself. I was still a little afraid of how it might hurt, of the ways in which everything would be different now and what lay ahead for me.

"I'm a little nervous." I let the words ride out on a long exhale and looked sideways at Alice. I felt marginally better admitting it and I was suddenly so glad that she was here with me, right next to me, a solid and tangible someone I could cling to. Standing here now, I knew I wouldn't have wanted to walk into this alone.

She came around the car and stuffed her clutch under her arm, taking my hand with her free one. Leaning against the car, she looked up at me, her eyes clear and calm. "You're okay," she said, and there was no question in her voice.

"I know," I replied quietly. "This is just all really weird."

She nodded, squeezing my hand. I let my eyes wander, taking in the cars lined along the driveway like so many parties before, the glowing lanterns placed every few feet along it so that it lit the way for us up to the gate. The night was perfectly still save for the celebration happening mere yards from where we stood and for some reason I felt like this moment was the dividing line between my old life and the new one, the one that was born this morning when I finally admitted all the things that had been living deep down inside of me, those things that I hadn't wanted to release because they would change the life I'd known for so long. Because maybe they would change _me_, too.

I still wasn't used to it all. I wasn't used to the idea that I'd know Edward in a different capacity, that the anger and loneliness that had been so strangely comforting to me were no longer there. I almost felt exposed, my skin and heart a little raw. But it was freeing in a way, knowing that although Edward and I wouldn't be what we were before, we'd started down a path to a new kind of friendship. And it was these first steps, shaky though they might have been, that led me in the right direction.

Apparently my right direction was through that gate.

"I can drag a table out here if you want," Alice joked, breaking through the silence and my thoughts.

"Not necessary," I replied, rolling my eyes. "I was just thinking about the parties Esme and Carlisle used to throw. Remember those?"

Alice laughed and I could see the mental movie playing out in her head. "Of course I remember. Those were so fun, weren't they?"

"They were," I confirmed, thinking of the first time Alice brought Jasper to one, how he'd claimed to have two left feet until the first slow song of the night had started up. Edward and I had sat at one of the tables on the perimeter, heckling and throwing pretzels at them while Esme and Carlisle looked on, bemused. "Hey, do you think I can get Carlisle to dance with me again?"

"The dancing is tomorrow night, my dear," she replied, straightening up and tugging gently on my hand. She smiled impishly and nodded toward my boobs, whether on purpose or because she was so damn short, I couldn't tell. "I'm sure you can find a willing partner with that dress, though."

Emmett's face flashed in my mind and I stood up straighter, my heart skipping a beat.

Alice's smile turned knowing, like she somehow guessed what I was thinking. God, maybe it was written all over my face. She didn't push me, though, just raised an eyebrow and nodded her head toward the backyard. "You ready?"

I took a deep breath and ran my hands over the front of my dress, smoothing out the wrinkles. My heart was working at a quicker pace again and I wasn't sure if it was because I was still imagining the way Emmett's arms would feel around my waist or if the nerves were coming back.

"Let's go," I replied.

We made our way toward the backyard, weaving around cars. I brushed past Edward's and ran my fingers over the hood, which was cool to the touch. We were late, mainly because I decided at the last minute that I wanted to curl my hair instead of leaving it straight, and I wondered how long everyone else had been here. At least I was taking Alice down with me this time. I smiled to myself at that; she'd been my partner-in-crime for so many years. It felt reinstated somehow after our talk this afternoon.

"Whoa," Alice breathed as she stepped into the backyard. I barely avoided slamming into her. I was about to ask her why the hell she stepped on the breaks when my gaze traveled up from the top of her head to the scene before us.

It was breathtaking. If I thought I had seen a Cullen party before this, I was sadly mistaken. Everything else had been just a dress rehearsal, which was funny considering that tonight was its own rehearsal of sorts.

Twilight was settling in overhead and the sky streaked itself with indigo and pink and violet, lending a gorgeous backdrop to an already stunning view. There were round tables set up immediately in front of us draped in white tablecloths. A colorful bunch of daisies sat nestled in low vases and small flickering tea light candles surrounded them on each table. White lights were strung everywhere – on the trees, the low bushes that divided the patio from the grass, and also above us, along with paper lanterns that swayed in the gentle breeze. Beyond the tables I could see a cleared area where I guessed the dance floor would go tomorrow. Even further than that was a huge tree that Edward and I used to play underneath when we were young. The branches were always too high for us to reach but I could see the white paper lanterns hanging from them now, could barely make out the rows of chairs on either side of a long aisle that led to the base of the sturdy oak behemoth.

Maybe it was the reality of this moment that truly took my breath away and not the scenery, because _god_, this all felt so real to me right now. I knew this was happening. I came up here with the knowledge that by the time I left Edward would be married to Bella. But now it was immediate and looming on the horizon. This time tomorrow, they'd be husband and wife and while I was coming to terms with it, it still made my heart ache.

"It's beautiful," I said when I found my voice.

"Yeah, I…" Alice trailed off, her slight shoulders moving up and down in a shrug. She looked back at me with a small smile. "We've talked a lot about how it was going to look, but it's so much more than I thought it would be."

I nodded. She'd put into words exactly how I felt, though she obviously meant it a different way. It was one thing to understand the concept of something. It was another to see it playing out right in front of you. Suddenly it was tangible and real. It was impossible to steel yourself for the immensity of it.

"Oh, hey, there are Em and Jazz," Alice said, pointing to a table near the middle of the cluster. Sure enough, they were sitting across from one another, otherwise alone, lobbing what looked like a balled-up napkin back and forth lazily. I let my eyes wander over Emmett's profile, along the strong line of his brow and nose, the chiseled edge of his jaw, down his neck and along the curve of his bicep that contracted as he threw the napkin back at Jasper. The breeze picked up, just barely, and snaked itself underneath my hair, caressing the back of my neck. I shivered and forced myself to look away.

"There you are," I heard Jasper call. "We thought you got lost."

"We're on Rosalie time," Alice called back, grinning at me over her shoulder.

I watched her dart ahead of me, her blue silk dress swirling around her legs. She made a beeline for Jasper, who rose from his seat with a grin. My gaze went back to Emmett just as he turned around and his eyes met mine, moved away and then snapped back quickly in a double-take. The easy smile he was wearing faded slightly and he sat up straight, his hand moving to the back of his chair.

I knew I was beautiful. Even if I'd never looked in a mirror, there were all the years of my parents stating it, of men openly staring and flirting, of things often coming easily to me because of how I looked.

But when Emmett looked at me, I felt like he was seeing what lay underneath my outer shell, past the curves of my body and the skin and the clothing. Sometimes it felt like he was seeing everything. Like now, as his eyes swept from my feet upward. I could almost feel the weight of his gaze along the curve of my legs, over my hips and waist and up my throat. He took his time and it wasn't lascivious, but rather like he was mentally taking stock of me.

Our eyes finally locked again and he smiled, a slow one that reminded me of molasses.

I walked slowly toward them. It was somehow quiet though there were people milling around me and music was being pumped out of hidden speakers. All I heard was the sound of my heart beating, of the crickets in the background and the soles of my sandals crushing grass beneath them.

Jasper sidled up to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder and the sound filtered back in when I looked away from Emmett and up at him. He squeezed me against his side, placed a swift kiss against my temple and murmured, "Glad you're here, Rose."

"Me too," I said truthfully. I looked back at Emmett and his grin widened. God, those dimples.

Jasper broke his hold on me as Emmett stood up. One of his hands landed on my hip, his fingers curling around it. He pulled me against his chest in a hug that was quick, no more than a few seconds. Still, I let my fingers brush against the hair at the base of his neck, let the other hand wind around his torso and briefly felt the muscles working in his back. I felt every bit of his skin that touched mine, even though it was just his fingertips against my bare back, the scratch of his jaw's stubble against the side of my face.

"You look beautiful," he said as he pulled away. I resisted the urge to grip his shirtsleeve and bring him closer again.

"Thank you, Emmett," Jasper said with a wide grin, then looked down at me. The tension crackling between Emmett's and my bodies dissipated, just enough that I could breathe again, and I smacked Jasper lightly. "_Oof_. Oh, you're not talking about me?"

"What are you wearing?" Alice asked suddenly, looking him up and down. We all turned to him and I noticed for the first time that the polo shirt he was wearing was…weird.

"I couldn't find my shirt and everything else was in the washer, so I dug around in Edward's closet to find something acceptable," he replied. He tugged at the hem of it, which barely reached his belt. Jesus, it must have been from ninth grade or something, because it was _really_ small. I tried to hide my laughter behind my hand. "The other options were my shirt for tomorrow or the one that says _The Price is Wrong, Bitch_. I mean, c'mon."

"I told you to wear the t-shirt," Emmett said with a wink in my direction.

Jasper turned to him, eyes narrowed. "And how do you think Esme would've reacted to that, genius?"

"I don't know, but it would've been really entertaining."

"It's a little…" Alice trailed off, trying to find a proper description for it. I had at least ten floating around in my head, none of which were appropriate, all of which were hilarious. "Snug."

Emmett groaned. "Okay, seriously Alice, you just ruined hours of groundwork."

"What groundwork?" she asked.

Emmett affected a high-pitched voice that frankly sounded nothing like Jasper but was nonetheless entertaining. "Does this shirt show off my muffin top?" He switched back to his normal timbre as Jasper flipped him off with both hands. "No, but it does perfectly showcase your vagina."

"Fuck you, that never happened," Jasper replied. "I asked if the shirt made me look like a pussy and you said no. End of conversation."

"I lied," Emmett laughed, leaning against me. I surreptitiously inhaled the fresh scent of his soap and cologne, letting my pinky graze against his jeans. "It probably made Edward look like a pussy back in fourth grade when he could fit into it."

"We are _so_ done," Jasper huffed.

"Dude, you're still collecting karma points for changing my ring tone to 'Jizz in My Pants', okay?" Emmett shot back. "That shit rang in the middle of a meeting."

"That's what you get for not putting it on silent."

"Oh, my god, you two are like little girls," I exclaimed, exasperated. The image of that song blasting from Emmett's pants pocket during a meeting was priceless, though.

"Or boyfriend and girlfriend," Alice mused, weaving her fingers through Jasper's.

"You're the girl," Emmett and Jasper replied in unison, pointing at one another.

I stood on my tiptoes, leaned into Emmett and sniffed at him suspiciously. He smelled like cinnamon gum and beer. "Are you drunk?"

Jasper grabbed his beer bottle. "We're saving that for tomorrow night. Rumor has it there's going to be an open bar with top shelf liquor."

"Where'd you hear that?" I asked, thinking already that there would be a mixed drink or five with my name on it.

Jasper grinned. "Edward told me." He turned to Emmett, slapping his arm. "I got the cigars, too."

Emmett held out his fist and Jasper bumped it triumphantly.

I wasn't sure how excited Bella would be to hear that Jasper was planning on getting shitty tomorrow night, but she'd been easy-going about everything else. It stood to reason that she'd just laugh it off. Besides, we rarely got too rowdy when we drank together.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. One particular night came to mind suddenly and I had to turn my head and press my mouth into my shoulder to keep from laughing as Emmett, Jasper and Alice chattered on.

It was one of the last times I'd visited Seattle, a little less than two years ago. Bella and Edward had come in from Forks and we'd all gone to a local Mexican restaurant that Alice wouldn't stop raving about. It was crowded and we'd ended up sitting at a round table in the middle of the restaurant, which even at the time seemed like an ominous move, especially after I caught sight of their famous margarita. The thing came in a glass that was the size of my head, and at least half the size of Alice entirely. Jasper had ordered a round for everyone. And another. And then another. At one point it dawned on all of us that we were utterly wasted. The mass quantity of food we'd consumed couldn't have saved us; I was sure those margaritas were fruity-flavored tequila. We'd all been laughing and talking – loudly – completely oblivious to how raucous we were getting, when I saw the hot sauce sitting innocently in the middle of the table. I'd remembered Garrett telling me about how he'd been forced to consume an entire bottle of hot sauce when he was pledging his fraternity in college, one of those bizarre hazing experiences, and suddenly that seemed like an excellent idea for _us. _

I had no idea how I talked all of them into it, but before I knew it we were all taking turns dousing tortilla chips with hot sauce, laughing hysterically. I still remembered Alice flapping her hands in front of her face, her tongue hanging out of her mouth, cheeks flushed, could plainly hear Emmett hiccuping next to me. The rest of it was hazy, but I vaguely recalled Edward and Jasper chanting "chug it" at Bella, who lasted surprisingly long, and the subsequent ejection of our group from the restaurant. I also remembered Emmett grabbing the basket of mints from the hostess station and marching out the door with them.

We'd made some ridiculous memories over the years. The thought made me smile, even as my chest tightened. Was it possible to ever get back to that or did we all have to move on at some point, let our friendships with one another grow into something different?

I looked around, trying to distract myself. As difficult as tomorrow would be, I knew what followed it might be even harder. I didn't know what would happen when I went back home. I was so used to distancing myself, physically and emotionally, that I didn't know what it would be like to try again, to make the effort to remain close to all of them, Edward included, and know that it might still not be what I wanted or expected.

"Hey, where are Bella and Edward?" I asked suddenly, looking around. I hadn't seen them since we got here.

"Making the rounds," Emmett said, hitching his thumb over his shoulder. I looked past him, noticing briefly that his expression was guarded, and saw Edward's unruly thatch of hair. His arm was wrapped around Bella's shoulders while they talked to Angela and Ben, along with a dark-haired, russet-skinned guy and a stunning girl with Pantene-shiny black hair.

It took me a minute to place him, but I realized quickly that it was Jacob, which meant the girl next to him must have been Leah. I could see their intertwined hands between the "v" of Bella and Edward's arms. They looked relaxed and happy and I couldn't help studying Jacob's face for signs of tension or awkwardness. I saw none. I wondered how he did it, how he managed to climb past everything with Bella and let go. Was it a gradual process? Did it take months, years? God, I hoped it wouldn't take me years. I hoped I would able to let myself have everything that I'd never allowed myself when my mind and heart were set on Edward. I thought of what he had said to me earlier today, how he wanted me to have everything he never would've been able to give, and my gaze drifted over to Emmett.

Maybe I could give those things to myself. Maybe I _had _to.

An arm wrapped around my shoulder and I started, the smell of gardenia and jasmine enveloping me. I leaned instinctively against the slight form, my body recognizing that it was Esme just a split-second before my mind got there.

"Hey, kids," she said, squeezing me gently. She looked gorgeous as always, but there was something more there, too, an incandescent happiness radiating off her. Alice placed a kiss on Esme's cheek. Esme grabbed her hand, her arm still firmly around my shoulder and grinned at us, then at Jasper and Emmett. "Our girls look beautiful, don't they?"

"Stunning," Jasper said in a lilting tone, smiling at Alice. She wrinkled her nose at him, grinning back. Her eyes were glowing and I couldn't tell if it was because of the soft light we were standing under or because of the way Jasper was looking at her. I hazarded a glance at Emmett to see if he noticed the overt display of eye affection happening in front of us and was surprised to find that he was watching me instead, the corners of his mouth turned up subtly.

"Everything looks amazing, Esme," I replied, looking away. I couldn't seem to get a handle on my response to him; there was a steady purr of electricity whenever I was near him now and it was only getting louder, more insistent. I felt out of control in a different way, like I was at the precipice of something I couldn't wrap my head around just yet.

Esme let out a little hum, running her hand up and down my arm briskly before releasing me. "Thanks, sweetie, but I can't take much credit for it. We rented all of the tables, so they set those up, and Bella and Angela recruited the boys to help with the flowers and lights."

Alice raised an eyebrow at both Jasper and Emmett. "Flowers, huh?"

Jasper nodded his head toward Emmett. "The flowers were all him and trust me, he enjoyed it."

Emmett shrugged. "You're still wearing a shirt that's eight sizes too small, dude."

"What does that have to do with you embracing your inner girl scout?"

A tall woman with vibrant red hair walked up to Esme and murmured something to her. She nodded a few times and then turned to us with a smile. "It looks like they're ready to start serving dinner. I'm going to herd everyone into seats, so go ahead and plant yourselves."

We did as we were told, taking our seats as Esme made her way toward Carlisle, who was at the other end of the yard. Emmett slid into the chair next to mine, sprawling out expansively so that his knee knocked against mine. He shot me a smile, then did it again. I rolled my eyes with a grin, but kept my knee against his. His nearness was at the same time distracting and calming and I found myself needing this contact, even if it was just our kneecaps resting against one another and nothing else.

I couldn't help thinking of our conversation earlier, about that text. Part of me wished we were alone right now so that we could talk about it, though I didn't know what I'd say. That I meant it? That as emotional and difficult as these past few days had been, he'd been my rock, a true and real friend? I didn't know how to convey that sentiment, particularly when there were other emotions attached to him that had nothing to do with friendship.

So instead I let my knee fall farther against his, just a little bit. He was mid-conversation, his eyes focused on Alice and Jasper, but I saw the corner of his lips pull up in acknowledgment.

It took a good fifteen minutes for everyone to get settled. Angela and Ben joined us at our table and we spent the time catching up. Angela asked me about San Francisco and Alice offered up anecdotes and asides about my job while Ben, Jasper and Emmett went in-depth on the Mariners' season thus far. After our dinner plates had been set in front of us, Carlisle said a few words to the 25 or so people that were here, thanking us for celebrating with Edward and Bella on the eve of such an important day. My gaze switched from Carlisle, grinning broadly with a beer in his hand, to Edward and Bella just a few feet away. They were standing close, smiling at one another like they were the only ones out here, even though they were surrounded with all eyes on them.

My chest started aching again. I wasn't sure if it was because of the way they were looking at each other, because it was Edward and someone other than me, or if it was because I recognized that I wanted that for myself. I wasn't ready for it, admittedly, but I wanted to believe that there was something out there for me that had the depth of what Edward and Bella or Alice and Jasper or god, especially Carlisle and Esme had.

It was easier to be happy for Edward now that I understood that what I'd been stubbornly holding onto for so many years didn't exist. Still, it hurt to see that he had the things that I wished for myself, especially when those were things I thought I'd wanted with him. And I had to wonder if the expectations I'd had with him would shift when I was ready for someone else.

I watched them make their way over to us, Edward's hand on Bella's back to guide her. Was self-realization always this painful or had I done it the hard way? Could it just be that this was part of growing up? Understanding that things changed despite your best effort to keep it exactly the way you wanted them? That life was hard and it hurt, but you picked yourself up and dusted yourself off because even when things didn't go the way you thought they should, they went the way they were supposed to? It seemed I was still l figuring that part out and it was painful but necessary, I knew.

Edward's gaze fell on me as they took their seats across the table and he grinned, almost bashfully. I smiled back and then caught Bella's eye. She smiled, too, a wide, easy one. There was a slight undercurrent of awkwardness, a split-second and silent recognition that we'd been through something intense and painful and though it'd been mostly worked out, it wasn't forgotten. The conversation picked up quickly before it spread any further, though, and I was grateful that there was no mention of the fact that the seat I was sitting in now would have been vacant if Edward hadn't come after me this morning.

"Welcome, Cullens," Jasper said with a grin, his fork hovering just below his mouth. He gestured to Bella. "Well, soon-to-be-Cullen."

"I'm officially done mingling for the night," Bella replied, groaning. Edward tucked into his food right away, seemingly wanting to catch up with Emmett, who was already nearly done with his plate and eyeing my mostly untouched one.

"Poor Grace. You're not used to being so social, are you?" Emmett teased, cutting into his last chunk of steak. I watched the muscles in his forearms contract out of the corner of my eye and my knife slipped, sending a handful of peas rolling onto the table. Emmett looked sideways at me with a curious grin and herded them back toward my plate with his knife. I heard a low giggle from Alice on my left, but kept my eye studiously focused on my plate.

"We can't all be as charming as you, Em," Bella shot back.

"Is that what you'd call it?" Edward mused, his mouth full. "I think he just likes to hear himself talk."

"Don't be jealous of my mad skills, Cullen."

They fell into the usual banter easily, but I was content to sit back and watch them interact instead of fully participating. I still felt involved and pulled in – Emmett was polishing of the steak that I couldn't finish and Alice kept leaning against me as she talked and we laughed. I was quietly enveloped between them and the conversation. There was a steady rise and fall of voices and laughter around us and it felt so familiar, so comfortable. I let it lull me and the rest of the tension I'd been holding onto faded away into the calm night air.

After dinner and dessert, Esme pulled Bella and Edward away. Bella was showing the beginning signs of exhaustion, but she gamely took Edward's outstretched hand and re-entered the fray. The crowd was getting smaller as it got later and it wasn't too long before Angela and Ben ducked out. I already knew we'd be the last to leave and it made me think of my parents and those nights long ago in this same backyard. It was funny how history repeated itself in the smallest ways.

"I'm going to get something to drink," Alice announced, standing up. She looked down at Jasper and motioned for him to follow her lead before turning to Emmett and me. "Do you guys want anything?"

Emmett held up his beer bottle. "I'm good."

"Nothing for me," I added, leaning back.

They took off and I let out a laugh as Jasper unconsciously tugged at the hem of his shirt.

"You're unusually quiet tonight," Emmett said as soon as they were out of earshot, taking a sip of beer.

"I'm just taking it all in, I guess." I stretched my legs in front of me, crossing my feet at the ankles. When I looked over at him, he was watching me thoughtfully, twisting his beer bottle slowly on the table. "What's the look for?"

He shook his head. "There's no look."

"I know you, McCarty, and I know your looks. _That _was a look."

"No, _this _is a look." He dipped his chin slightly, leveling a stare at me like he was channeling _Zoolander_. It was almost indecent how handsome he was, even with his face screwed up into a ridiculous expression.

"Very attractive," I laughed. My heart jumped as he broke into a wide, wry grin and I averted my eyes, watching his fingers maneuver the amber glass around and around, a muscle in his forearm twitching rhythmically.

My gaze moved to Edward and Bella standing with Carlisle and Esme. They were deep in conversation and Edward's hand was moving up and down Bella's arm languidly. I took in the way their bodies were oriented toward each other, how they were so aware of one another even though their attention was focused elsewhere.

I looked over at Alice and Jasper standing in a darkened corner not far away, talking closely. Jasper had Alice's hand captured in his and he was holding it behind his back. I watched his thumb brush absently back and forth over it, notice the way she leaned against him, how his body supported her. When my gaze bounced back to Emmett, I saw that he was watching them, too.

I thought of our conversations over the past few days, about the visibility he had given me to his dating life, however murky. I wondered if he ever felt out of place around them or if he was content being single.

"Does it ever bother you?" I asked, voicing my thoughts. Emmett turned to me, raising a curious eyebrow, and I pointed to both Edward and Bella and Jasper and Alice. "Hanging out with them, I mean, and being the only single one."

His broad shoulders moved up and down in a shrug and he tipped his head back, his eyes roaming the inky sky above us. It was full of brilliantly twinkling stars, something I missed in San Francisco where the city lights partially hid them. "It doesn't usually bother me. I'm still young and I know I have time to get into something serious. But yeah, sometimes I crave what they have." He looked over at me, his expression pensive, and I instinctively leaned closer, my hair falling over my shoulder. "I think we all want someone to share our lives with, you know? The little stuff, the big moments. Sometimes it means more when there's someone important to tell it to."

I swallowed and looked down, focusing on the small alligator emblazoned on his polo shirt. I hadn't realized how similar our situations were, though he'd been a lot more active in the dating scene than I had from what I could tell. I'd watched Alice and Jasper's love grow from exciting and new in high school to something so enduring and deeply rooted now, had seen the ways in which Edward and Bella had grown with one another, and Emmett had been there to witness it, too, even more closely than I had. What had it done for his perspective, or _to _it for that matter?

"I don't want to fuck around anymore," he continued quietly. "I don't want to date for the hell of it. The physical part is easy to get, but the something more…that takes work and the right person. And when I settle down, I want it to mean something more. I want it to be for good. I'm okay being single until that happens for me."

His words caused a ripple in my chest that radiated outward and down to my stomach. I pressed my fingernails into the soft skin of my palm, exhaling. "Have you ever been in love?"

There was a long silence and I couldn't stand the quiet stretching out between us so I looked over at him. He glanced at me and then at Alice and Jasper, gesturing to them with a jerk of his chin. "Not like that."

It wasn't an outright no. I wanted to ask him if he'd ever been in love period, but he'd already given me more than he ever had. I didn't want to push it. He was leaning forward now, his elbows on the table. I mirrored his pose, resting my warm cheek against my hand, tucking the other underneath my chin. I could feel my pulse thumping quietly against my fingers, could feel the warmth of his body, so close but not touching. It felt like we were alone out here, though the thinning crowd surrounded us on all sides.

"Have you?" he asked, his expression unreadable.

My first instinct was to say yes. It sat on the tip of my tongue, ready to be released. But if I thought about it in Emmett's terms, if I was honest with myself, the love I felt for Edward all these years didn't fit. It may have been real in its own way but it had never been tangible. It was an idea that I'd carefully crafted, an idealistic wish based on what I thought I knew. In truth, I didn't know what it was like to build a life with someone, to be intimately acquainted with his successes and failures, to know that he slept on his stomach and snored when he'd been drinking. I didn't know what it felt like to understand that no matter what happened, there was one person in this entire world that I could turn to, that would be waiting there for me when I came home from work. I'd never told someone 'I love you' and had him say it back in a way that meant not only 'I love you' but 'you have me' and 'I want you' and 'I always will.'

That was what I saw when I looked at Alice and Jasper. Those shared moments and words and promises were such a sturdy foundation, were the reason that Edward and Bella were vowing to keep one another forever tomorrow night no matter what life threw at them. It took years to build that; it was a commitment I couldn't imagine. God, but it was one that I wanted to. It was one that I was starting to understand could be mine if I opened myself up to it.

"Not like that," I echoed. "Not yet."

"Some day," he said, and I wasn't sure if he was telling himself or me that. He looked down and exhaled deeply, squinting at the peeling label on his beer bottle. "Jesus Christ, did they switch out the hops in this beer for weed?"

I let out a shaky laugh. We were both used to lightness and banter when it came to one another; this conversation had steered us into deeper waters. While I didn't regret the course it had taken us on, I was glad the furrow in his brow was gone, that the tension buzzing between us had lessened, or at least shifted back to the kind that I was better acquainted with.

"Hey, thank you, by the way." I knocked my knee against his. He frowned, confused, so I clarified, "For what you said this morning."

Recognition dawned on his face and he nodded slowly, throwing me a grin. "It was the truth."

"I know," I said. "That's why it means so much."

He hummed, a deep sound in his throat, and looked over at me out of the corner of his eye. "You're quite the charmer tonight, Hale."

I grinned, feeling the warmth of his gaze from the roots of my hair down to my toes. "You haven't seen me at my most charming, McCarty."

"I can only imagine," he replied, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Miss us?" a voice said in my ear. I turned, startled out of the intimate bubble Emmett and I had created and had been living in for the past fifteen minutes. Alice sat down next to me and grinned widely, her eyes moving from me to Emmett and then back again. Jasper settled into the chair next to her, capturing her hand.

"More than I can possibly explain," I replied dryly. She winked at me and weaved her arm through mine, resting her head against my shoulder. I leaned my head on top of hers, watching as Bella and Edward made their way to us. The party was definitely winding down now; I could see Esme and Carlisle ushering the last few stragglers through the gate. I wondered if they would come back out or if they'd go back into the house and watch us through the window like we used to do to them.

"And then there were six," Edward said, sitting down with a tired grin. Bella practically collapsed into her seat, kicking off her sandals, and propped her feet up on Edward's lap. His hands wrapped around her ankles immediately, his thumbs kneading into her skin.

"Dude, it's only ten." Emmett looked down at his watch. "I hope people don't crap out this early tomorrow. I'm planning on going all night long."

"Okay, Lionel Richie," Alice deadpanned. Bella started to hum the melody.

"Good one, pixie," Emmett shot back easily, winding his arm along the back of my chair.

"It makes sense that we'd shut the party down tonight, though, don't you think?" Jasper said. "Kind of like old times."

"Yeah, we were always the stragglers." Edward grinned over at me and I knew he was remembering all of the parties in high school where we wouldn't leave until we were kicked out. I remembered Emmett being there most times, too, and playing beer pong with him at 4 in the morning at Jessica Stanley's house. It was the first time we'd interacted beyond smiles and abbreviated greetings in the hallways at school and I remembered losing in a blaze of glory because I couldn't stop staring at his dimples.

I'd loved that feeling of wanting to linger, of wanting to draw the minutes out just a little bit longer. I'd always been selfish with time growing up, had wanted to hold onto the moments that made me feel most alive, like dancing with Carlisle as a little girl or watching shooting stars streak across the sky at the golf course with Edward, Alice and Jasper.

But I knew, maybe now more than ever, that time didn't allow for selfishness. You had to be in those moments as they happened, had to soak up every second of it, because before you knew it, it would be over.

I looked around the table at the five people that had shaped so many aspects of my life and felt that familiar sharpness in my chest. It was a good kind of pain, though, the kind that reminded me that I felt this way because this moment, this day, this _week_ already meant so much in ways that I would probably be discovering for years to come. And I knew that we wouldn't always be just like this, sitting at a table in the Cullens' backyard in the town we'd all called home at one point or another. We'd taken root in other places, and though our reach extended beyond city and state lines, there would be more marriages, kids, love and distance and _life _to test the depth of our friendship.

But this moment right now was ours. I could feel it; every second that ticked by moved in vivid, real time, and I wanted to remember what Emmett's fingers felt like brushing against my bare back, wanted to remember looking across the table and seeing Edward laugh, his head tipped up toward the sky, to hear Jasper's dry quips and Alice's lilting giggle mingle with Bella's huskier one. I didn't want to think about what tomorrow would bring or the next day. I wanted to be here now.

And so I was, and we were, and our laughter rang out in the night long after the windows inside the house had gone dark.

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**A/N: Hey, it's still Monday! I win! **

**You guys know the drill by now, right? Hmonster4 is the beta that makes everything (no, really,_ everything_) better. LightStarDust pre-read and gave me *pat*s on this one. She and LoreliD also provided hours of gchat WCs. They are all pretty awesome. **

**And now some news: I'm officially one of the newest members of A Different Forest's VIP author troupe. I'm _so _excited and it's crazy and really cool. My stories are all up and ready to read there (thank you, Emibella!), and I have my own cabin with an actual _heart_ on it, chambers and veins and all. It's very bad ass. Stop by if you get a chance! It's already littered with ridiculousness. And while you're there, check out the forums. It's a really great place to chat about the fandom and make new friends - www (dot) adifferentforest (dot) com. **

**More news: I officially suck at replying to reviews lately. My time management skills are rusty at best, but I'm trying to get better. Please be patient with me. I swear I read every one of your reviews multiple times and smile like an idiot and draft up replies in my mind. It's just a matter of making the fingers type it out. Thank you all for the support you've given both me and my story. I might say this too much, but it means so much to me.  
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**Next chapter is the big day *cue the wedding march*. See you soon! :)  
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	15. Ch 14: This is the Day

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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I sat in my car, window rolled down, watching people drift in and out of the side gate that led to the backyard. I knew I was wrinkling my dress, but I wasn't ready to get out just yet.

I needed a moment to take it all in.

The day had gone by so fast, almost _too _fast. Alice and I had stayed up late last night, talking about everything but the wedding and watching bad TV, curled up on the bed together. Though there was no mention of it, we both knew this would be the last night we'd be truly alone before we went back to our real lives and we'd both fought valiantly against sleep. It was entirely possible Alice fell asleep mid-sentence and I was reminded of the sleepovers we used to have, when we'd lay in the dark, our voices low and hushed until they eventually tapered off from exhaustion. We'd never wanted to fall asleep those nights, which was funny considering we saw each other nearly every waking moment, but I'd felt that same sense of urgency last night, the feeling of wanting to cram in every single second that we could before sleep took us.

I'd woken up with dawn just breaking outside, Alice snoring softly in my ear and my heart pounding. We may not have talked about the wedding, but it was at the forefront of my mind in the near-silence of the room. I'd watched the sky go from indigo to dusky blue until my heart slowed and my eyes grew heavy. They closed just as soft purples and pinks started to paint across the horizon. When I woke up again, it was noon and there was a muffin sitting on the nightstand next to me, along with a note from Alice that told me to come over to the Cullens' as soon as I was ready. It was peppered with hearts and flowers and it reminded me of the notes she used to write me in junior high and high school, all colorful inks and abstract swirls on college-ruled paper.

After tucking the note into my book, right behind the photo strip, I'd thrown on some clothes and wandered over to the hotel to grab a coffee. I'd started to add all of my usual accoutrements but paused over the little sugar packets, noticing that my hand was shaking slightly. Apparently the last thing I needed was to be hopped up on sugar, so I kept it black instead, opting for decaf as an added precaution. The first few sips were a little bitter, definitely different, but not nearly as terrible as I'd expected.

I'd decided to stay outside, leaning up against a column that held up the overhang above me. I picked at my muffin as I watched birds hopping along the pocked asphalt in front of me. It was a gorgeous day, cloudless and warm and a bit breezy, perfect for a wedding. Closing my eyes, I'd rested my head against the slightly dilapidated wood holding me up and listened to the quiet life of the town – the crisp sound of birds chirping, the low hum of a car passing by every few minutes, tree leaves rustling in the breeze. When my eyes opened, they focused on a butterfly, its wings paper-thin and brilliantly colored in golden hues, passing right in front of me. I'd looked up at the sky, eyebrow raised sardonically, half expecting to see Walt Disney's ghost winking down at me. I'd been grateful for the moment of levity; it allowed me to breathe for a minute.

I'd taken a shower, so distracted that I ended up conditioning my hair twice. When I got out, I turned on the television and switched it to something diverting and loud, letting it serve as my soundtrack to keep the thoughts swirling around in my mind at bay. Still, I spent a good ten minutes wrapped in my towel and staring into the closet at the deep, rich berry fabric of my dress, my fingers absently moving over a small wrinkle near the sweetheart neckline. No matter what I did, I couldn't stop the snapshots and memories that trickled through my mind, couldn't stop thinking about what today meant. It wouldn't have mattered if the volume of the TV had been deafening; nothing could have stopped my thoughts.

It was impossible to ignore the physical manifestations of my anxiety, too – the way my hand shook as I applied my waterproof mascara, decaf coffee be damned, how my heart skipped when I stepped into my dress and my stomach dipped and twisted when I slipped on my heels. I breathed through it – deeply, soundly, counting to myself. I'd seen Garrett do a similar exercise when we'd flown to a conference in Texas. I'd always thought of him as impenetrable and unflappable, but his easy-going demeanor had changed as soon as we'd pulled up at San Francisco International. He'd admitted that he was afraid of flying when curiosity had gotten the best of me and I'd asked him what the hell was wrong. It was all anticipatory, he'd said, looking almost embarrassed. He knew as soon as he got on the plane and we were safely in the air that his heart would slow to a steady pace and he'd feel like he could breathe again. But sitting in the waiting area watching other planes take off, all he could think about was running.

It wasn't that I wanted to run away; I'd already tried that with nearly disastrous consequences and I knew it wasn't the answer. No, it was more that I wanted to press fast-forward. I wanted to see myself in six hours, in six days or weeks or months, and make sure that I made it out of this thing with my heart intact. My mind and body could handle it, but my heart had been through so much already. I wanted the reassurance that I could handle all of this, that I could handle everything that this day was going to bring.

It was an impossible wish, but I couldn't help thinking it regardless. Instead, I would just have to trust myself, would have to believe that my heart was strong enough to not only make it through, but to come out on the other side more open and willing to take chances. In some ways, it was exhilarating to know that I'd freed myself from the anger and hopelessness I'd felt over Edward's and my situation, that there was so much possibility in front of me. But the exhilaration was also twisted up in fear of the unknown.

My hands rested loosely at the bottom of the steering wheel now, belying the knot of anticipation still growing in my stomach and chest. Jasper's Land Rover sat across the street in Alice's parents' driveway and the Volvo and Bella's truck were parked in front of me. They were all here and inside getting ready and surprisingly that knowledge didn't cause any ugly feelings. I was okay being out here alone, getting used to the idea of what I was about to walk into. I wanted these extra moments to myself, maybe even needed them.

The cement crunched lightly underneath my heels as I made my way slowly up the driveway, my purse clutched in my hand. The front door was slightly ajar and I slipped inside almost furtively, looking around. There were a couple people milling around – a woman with a vase of peonies in each hand and a guy with what looked like a violin case – but I didn't see anyone I recognized. I climbed the staircase out of habit. It was so ingrained in me from day after day of taking them two at a time up to Edward's room that I doubted I would ever step foot in this house and not be drawn to it. My hand ran along the dark cherry wood banister and I remembered with a smile how I'd begged Edward for years to ride down it with me. I'd finally done it myself one day, bored and restless after hours cooped up in Edward's room studying. I'd ended up with a busted lip acquired when I flew off the end of it and caught my face on his elbow. He'd been waiting at the bottom for me, hands on hips and shaking his head, but I'd loved that feeling of flying and I'd noticed Emmett's eyes lingering on my puffed-up bottom lip the next day when I passed by him in the hallway.

I got to the first landing and stopped there, walking slowly along the length of the hall. Picture after picture lined the wall in brushed silver frames. I ran my finger along the wall just underneath them, my eyes wandering over pictures of Edward with Esme and Carlisle as a little boy, of us as 12-year-olds, both of our widely-stretched mouths full of glinting metal, of him and Bella. There were others, too, of extended family and holidays, of vacations and parties, moments in time caught forever and preserved.

"Rosalie?"

I started, looking over my shoulder toward the voice. I'd been so wrapped up in the pictures that I hadn't even recognized it, though it was the voice of my past and memories.

Edward was peeking out the door of his bedroom and I felt a wave of nostalgia wash over me. How many times had I come upon a scene like this when we were younger? Dozens? Hundreds? He smiled curiously at me, head tilted, hair mussed, and for a second he looked young and familiar. For a second, it felt like we were kids again.

"How long have you been here?" he asked, straightening and leaning against the doorjamb.

"Just a few minutes." I walked toward him. He was dressed in a black suit and crisp white shirt and my eyes went to his tie instinctively. As expected, it was askew. "Jesus, Cullen, your tie is crooked. How is it you've never figured out how to tie one?"

He looked down, his fingers wrapping around the knot and adjusting it, which only made it worse. "I _can _tie a tie, you've just always done it better. Here, come in for a second and fix it."

I followed him into his room, looking around. I expected to see everything as it always had been – his double bed, dark wood and flannel comforter, pushed up against the far wall, a bookshelf lined with paperbacks and old records that he had stolen from Carlisle, the desk that I'd often find him hunched over doing homework. So my breath caught in my throat when I saw that it had changed so drastically. I let my gaze sweep over the room I'd spent so many hours in, taking in the new furniture, the butter cream walls that replaced the navy Edward had insisted on when he was thirteen. I hadn't set foot in here in years, but with these new things, it felt like a lifetime ago.

"Like they don't have enough bedrooms?" I said before I could censor myself. I looked over at Edward and he shrugged.

"That's what I said. I guess it's nicer this way, though. Cleaner, at least."

I rolled my eyes. "Please, you put the 'freak' in 'neat freak.'"

"Oh, that's right," he said, snapping his fingers, "_your _room was the one that always looked like it'd been drunkenly ransacked."

I couldn't really argue with that. It was funny, though, how careful I was about keeping my apartment clean now. Maybe it was because it was my own space. Maybe it was simply because I was older and had grown up enough to understand that I had to take care of things if I wanted them to last.

I looked around, wondering where all of his things had gone. Had he packed the concert and movie ticket stubs, the pictures and other random things he'd collected and stuck haphazardly on the bulletin board over his bed? Were his yearbooks and the movies and books he'd loved stuck with them in an attic or coat closet like most of my high school memories were?

"Do you think it was weird for them to do all this?" I asked, gesturing around the room. What I really wanted to ask was, _was it weird for you to _see_ this_? I wanted to ask if he'd felt any sense of loss when he'd walked in here for the first time and saw what had changed, or if he'd shrugged it off. Was it easier to move on from old memories when you had the promise of new, equally important ones to be made, like he had with Bella?

"Probably not. They raise us to let us go," he said with a sigh, yanking at the knot in his tie until it unfurled itself. "And then they redecorate our bedrooms."

"I wonder what my parents would've done with mine," I mused.

"Set it on fire?"

I reached out to punch him in the arm, which he dodged with a laugh, then looked around. "Where are the other two stooges?"

"Downstairs scamming beers."

"And everyone else?"

"I think Mom and Dad are making sure everything's in order." His face came alive with a wide, brilliant smile as he pointed up. I doubted he even realized the metamorphosis he'd just gone through, but I marveled at it. It was like a light switch; suddenly he was ablaze. "And Bella is upstairs with Alice and Angela getting ready."

I nodded, stepping forward and grasping his tie. He smelled like soap and sandalwood and a little bit like sugar cookies and it was both different and familiar. I remembered all the times we'd done exactly this in high school, when I'd come over before school dances and bitched and moaned about what a pain in the ass he was while I looped the silk fabric through itself, making a symmetrical knot. It was our routine, though, a way for us to connect before these big events.

I recited the steps to myself absently. Cross one side over the other and loop it around back. Stick the wide end through the middle and bring it to the front. It was a strangely soothing process and I focused on making it perfect, because this one counted more than any of the others before it. This was bigger than Homecoming or Prom.

An image of him and Bella walking through the cafeteria that day long ago flashed into my mind. It was the day I'd realized that he was in love with her and that it was serious, maybe even forever. It had been the start of the journey that had taken me down this long and winding path, so far away from Edward, from Alice and Jasper and Bella, from Emmett, and then back again. Life was funny that way, though. You could be so very far away, a thousand miles and hundreds of moments and dozens of memories away from someone and suddenly you were standing right where you were years before, knotting the tie of your childhood best friend right before the biggest event of his life.

His happiness had choked and suffocated me that day in the cafeteria. It had broken my teenage heart that didn't know any better, that had foolishly thought he belonged to me. There had only been bitterness that day.

But now? Now I felt like there was some sweetness to temper the pain, because at least I was here. At least I would see this happen and understand that it was real, that it was right.

He stood still, chin up, quiet and patient, while I looped the wide end of the ivory tie and pulled until a knot formed.

"I'm happy for you, you know," I said and I meant it, though I had my own knot forming in my throat.

He smiled down at me, a small, contented one. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I finished straightening his tie and then smoothed out the lapels on his suit, my eyes focused on my fingers. I took a deep breath, mentally gathering the words I wanted to say before releasing them. "I want everything for you, too, Edward, and I know you have that with Bella."

I didn't want to launch into some drawn-out soliloquy. I'd said what I'd needed to yesterday morning, or at least most of it, and he had more important things to concentrate on. But I wanted him to know that. I needed him to know it. I'd never said it out loud and it seemed important to get it out now, to let him know that I really did accept this.

I could hear his breath, the slight whistle of the air as it moved in and out of his nose steadily. And then his arms were around my shoulders and he was pulling me to him in a tight hug.

"Hey, hey. You're going to wrinkle your tie and my hard work," I said against his shoulder. My heart beat hard against his chest, jump-started in surprise by our contact, and I could feel his heart, too, slower and calm.

"Shut up, Rosalie," he replied, squeezing me pointedly.

I let my arms wind around his waist and lightly gripped the material of his suit jacket. I closed my eyes for a brief second, just for a moment. We'd never been overly affectionate, especially as we got older, but this didn't feel strange or out of place. Though I may have mistaken his words and actions in the past, had given them more weight than they were meant to bear, I knew that this was not a hug that meant anything more than 'thank you' and 'I understand.'

When I pulled away and looked up at him, his eyes were bright on mine and he smiled and I exhaled deeply, feeling like another little bit of me was starting to heal.

The door swung open then and Emmett and Jasper walked in, frosty beer bottles in hand. Jasper's face lit up with a grin when he saw me and Emmett's did, too, but it was different and there was that slow-motion feeling again.

"Rose is early? I don't believe it," Jasper said, pressing his beer bottle to his chest and staggering a bit. Emmett laughed and winked and my mouth twisted into a reluctant grin as I scratched my cheek with my middle finger.

The three of them stood next to one another, all decked out in their suits and ties, and they looked like _men_. It was a little stunning to see the difference now, like I needed to see them all together to fully recognize how grown up they were. Jasper's long limbs had gained sinewy muscle, his eyes a little crinkled along the edges. Edward was tall and lean and broad as always, but there was a wisdom in his eyes, or maybe a deeper knowledge of who he was. I couldn't help but wonder if Bella helped him get there, if love allowed you to settle more solidly into yourself when you were able see yourself through someone else's eyes.

And while Emmett probably had a six-pack since birth, his face had always been so youthful. It could've been the dimples or the subtle smattering of freckles on his nose or his affable smile, but those attributes were carved out on a more chiseled face now, a strong jaw line and defined cheekbones and a proud, straight nose. He wore his years so well, was so comfortable in his skin.

My gaze lingered on him and when he looked at me, it felt like I could breathe easier and also like I couldn't catch it at all. His eyes darted up and down my body quickly and he raised his eyebrows at me in approval. A stupid grin melted across my face.

It had only been a few seconds since they walked in, but it felt like too long when I finally tore my eyes away from Emmett's. It must have been obvious, because Jasper and Edward were bothlooking between the two of us knowingly. I gave a little huff and focused my attention on Jasper, pointing to his beer.

"Already, huh?"

He held it up like he was toasting. "I'm prepping my tolerance for later."

"Actually, he's stretching his alcohol pocket," Emmett informed me, taking a sip of beer.

Jasper frowned at him. "My huh?"

"Good god, how many pockets are there?" I asked, widening my eyes.

"I've personally discovered five." He snapped his fingers. "No, six! I found a pancake pocket last year during the all you can eat promo at IHOP."

Jasper turned to me, swallowing a huge mouthful of beer with a wince, and pointed his bottle at Emmett. "I've never seen anyone put away so many pancakes, for the record. It was goddamn awesome. And also disturbing."

"What's a pancake pocket?" Edward asked.

I caught Emmett's eye and he grinned, his lips curling out on either side of the bottle he had pressed against them.

"Long story," I said, my eyes lingering on Emmett's smile. I wanted that to be just ours and I could tell by the way Emmett's dimples deepened that he did, too. I gestured to him. "What's your excuse for starting so early?"

Emmett looked down at the bottle thoughtfully and then at me. "Taking the edge off. I hate being in front of crowds."

Edward rolled his eyes and Jasper shook his head while Emmett's smile turned impish, directed right at me. My heart started going quickly again, beating a heavy, syncopated rhythm and I smoothed down the front of my dress absently, turning slightly on my heel.

"Okay, well, I'm going to leave you _boys_ to your beer."

"See you out there," Edward called and I nodded, though I knew he wouldn't be seeing anyone but Bella.

I was just outside Edward's door when a hand closed around mine, stopping me. I looked down at the long fingers wrapped around mine and then up into eyes of blue and green and my fingers molded against the spaces between Emmett's easily, locking into place.

"I wanted to ask you," he started, leaning against the door frame. His tie, a subtle paisley pattern in the same shades as his eyes, gold-threaded and beautiful and rich, was at eye level and he was so close, so I focused on the swirling patterns instead of his gaze. "I was going to ride back home with Alice and Jasper tomorrow, but they're staying late to go to some church lunch with Alice's mom and I don't really want to get back late. Can I hitch a ride with you instead?"

"Yeah," my mouth was saying before my brain fully computed his request. And then I was nodding and his hand was still holding mine, palm against palm, and it was more than a little distracting. "Yeah, of course."

"Great," he replied, flashing white teeth and dimples. "It's a date."

"It's a date," I echoed, smiling unsteadily. The thought of having an additional four hours of time with Emmett eased the heaviness that I felt at the thought of leaving tomorrow.

"By the way, you look beautiful, Rosalie." The way he said my name sent blood rushing hotly through my veins.

"You do, too," I replied automatically. He laughed and I smacked him in the chest with my free hand, the backs of my fingers brushing over the silk handkerchief that was stuck in his breast pocket. "Handsome, I mean. You look handsome."

"Strapping?" he asked teasingly.

"I wouldn't go that far," I said with a roll of my eyes. He was still smiling at me, but it had gone soft at the corners. I could hear Jasper and Edward talking and laughing just a few feet away. Emmett tilted his head thoughtfully, looking at me but not saying anything and it was like I could see what he was thinking, like I could feel it.

"I'm fine," I said to his unasked question.

His eyes wandered over my face slowly and then he stood to his full height, squeezed my hand and brushed his thumb against the inside of my wrist as he pulled away. "I know you are."

I watched him walk back into the room and it wasn't the first time I wished I could reel him back next to me. I was okay alone but the solidness of him, the warmth and optimism, would have been better right now.

I made my way back down the stairs, my eyes lingering on the stairway that led up to the third floor where Bella, Alice and Angela were. I thought about popping my head in just to say hi, but it was getting close to the start of the ceremony and I was sure they were busy finishing up. So instead I wandered through the foyer and down the hallway to the kitchen. I stopped in front of the French doors that led out into the backyard, taking it all in from afar.

Everything was set up similarly to last night. It looked even more beautiful now in the glow of early evening. The sun had settled low in the sky and brilliant yellow rays of light were filtering through the branches of the tree where the ceremony would be held. White wooden chairs were set up, one row after another, with a small bouquet of pale pink peonies tied to the end of each row. The aisle going down it was clear, and though Alice had mentioned rose petals, there was only green grass to lead the way from Bella and Edward's old life to their new one. People were already sitting and I saw Jacob and Leah, along with an older woman I assumed was Sue and a younger guy. Jessica and Mike were there, too, five or six rows back. The more I looked, the more faces I recognized. My heart started beating a little harder and faster.

My eyes moved to focus on the paper lanterns swaying gently in the breeze and I watched one swing like a pendulum, steady and moving back and forth in a perfect, lazy arc. I breathed in time with its movement; the rhythm was soothing and I needed it. I could feel my body starting to react to the reality of what my eyes were taking in. I suddenly knew what Garrett was talking about when he described how he felt waiting to step onto a plane. I was waiting, too, and the anticipation was building in my chest, dictating the speed of my heartbeat and the cadence of my breath.

"You look more and more like your mother every day," a voice said behind me. I felt a hand on my elbow and I turned, startled. My eyes landed on empty space and then a second later, as they adjusted to the height of the person speaking to me, the top of a dark head.

Alice's mom was standing there, looking pristine in a shift dress and silk wrap. She gathered me into a hug, which I had to stoop a little to accept – there was certainly no question where Alice inherited her height, or lack thereof – and I found myself steeped in nostalgia for what must have been the millionth time this week. I hadn't seen Alice's mom in years, but it was so good to see her now. For a fleeting moment, I wished my parents could be here to see this and connect with the friends they'd drifted away from.

"It's so good to see you," I replied.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?" She squeezed my hand and looked me up and down, shaking her head slowly. "You look so grown up, I can't believe it."

Alice's dad came around the corner before I could respond, popping something in his mouth. He looked as distinguished as ever, his hair threaded with silver, and he smiled when he saw me. "Well, well, look who you found."

"David, you're not supposed to eat the hors d'oeuvres _now_," she tsked, rolling her eyes at me.

He waved her off, giving me a quick hug. "I rearranged the plate, Suzanne, they'll never know the difference."

"Oh, for god's sake." She turned to me. "Rosalie, how is San Francisco? Alice is always going on and on about what a great set-up you have down there."

"She is?" I couldn't keep the surprise out of my voice.

"Well, of course," she replied, caught off-guard by my shock. "She's so proud of everything you've accomplished, honey. You kids were so close growing up and it takes guts to go off on your own, especially when everyone else is going in the same direction. It's fantastic that you've stayed close, too. Sometimes life makes that difficult to do."

I blinked at her, opening and closing my mouth as I tried to formulate an appropriate response.

Truthfully, I'd only thought about trekking off on my own in terms of how it affected my friendships and the way I felt about Edward. I hadn't thought about what it meant in terms of _me_. How it had shaped me, how it had allowed me to grow up on my own. I'd taken a chance on myself by going to school in San Francisco and continuing to live there, had leapt off the ledge and forged my own path, and I hadn't really stopped to consider the ways in which I'd shown strength in standing on my own and making my own life, how I'd defined myself. And despite the holes I'd felt where the presence of the five of them had waned recently, I did love my life in San Francisco. It wasn't perfect, but it was _mine_.

"We're so proud of you," she continued, reaching over to rub my arm. "We're so proud of _all _you kids. It seems like just yesterday you were running around, nipping at our ankles." Her expression got a little far away and I knew she was thinking of nights long ago in the backyard just behind us.

"The older you get, the quicker it goes," Alice's dad mused.

"We have all done pretty well for ourselves," I finally managed to get out, still a little off-kilter by my mini revelation.

The doors opened behind me and Esme stepped through, a vision in vibrant purple chiffon.

"Can you let the string quartet know we're starting soon?" she called to someone outside. Her eyes darted to us and she smiled, letting out a breath. "Suzanne, David, how are you?" She grabbed my hand, then kissed Alice's parents on the cheek. They talked about mutual friends and other goings-on in Forks for a few minutes. My hand stayed captured in Esme's and it was amazing how I was instantly transported to childhood again, listening to the grown ups talk about their grown up things.

Everything happened quickly after that. Esme brought me along with her to ask Charlie to let the boys know it was time to come down now and the girls that their turn would be coming up soon after. He gave us a smile that was suspiciously shaky, his eyes dark and a little unfocused, and I wondered if he was nervous because he was going to be walking his daughter down the aisle in front of so many watchful pairs of eyes or because he was giving Bella away today, allowing someone else to be the man in her life for good.

We made our way outside and Esme greeted people as we walked down the aisle to our seats up front. I waved to Jessica and Mike, noticing the swell of her stomach and the way her hand rested protectively over it.

Carlisle stood in front of the base of the tree, a leather-bound book in his hand, looking serene and handsome. A small smile played on his lips, but his expression brightened when Esme ran up to him quickly and whispered something in his ear. I seated myself, watching as he murmured back, his hand on her hip. God, they looked like teenagers, still newly in love. It was breathtaking the way he looked at her, the way he lit her up, and I couldn't stop staring, even when he bent slightly to give her a kiss on the lips. It was quick and chaste, but so intimate. They were the standard when it came to marriage and I couldn't think of anyone better suited to usher Bella and Edward into their first moments and husband and wife than Carlisle.

Maybe it was the setting and what this day meant, but it suddenly felt like I was surrounded and cocooned by people in love. There was no lonely ache in my chest, though; it only made me wonder what might lie ahead for me once I was ready. Could I have what Carlisle and Esme had, what Mike and Jessica and my other friends did?

Almost as soon as Esme sat next to me, a tissue clutched in her hand, Edward, Jasper and Emmett walked down the aisle. They lined up next to Carlisle and Edward gave him a smile that was exultant and impatient. God, he was so ready for this. I'd seen more diluted versions of that same smile growing up, but nothing compared to the power of this one. This was the moment he'd been waiting for his whole life. It was written all over his face and even if I hadn't known him well enough to recognize it, it would have been so obvious, the way it was radiating off of him.

My heart twitched and a lump formed instantaneously in my throat. My knee was bobbing up and down and I knew I could do this, that it would be okay, but it was starting to hurt and I was afraid the pain in my chest would only grow until it was unbearable.

_You're okay_, I told myself, breathing deeply. _It hurts because it's healing. _

Maybe it hurt, too, because while I acknowledged that the Edward I'd held onto for so long, that the wishes I'd created for myself were never meant to happen, this was their final breath, right now in this moment. It was one of the most painful parts of growing up, I was realizing, to understand that what you'd so carefully built for yourself didn't really fit anymore, to acknowledge that you could care so much about something or someone and at the same time recognize that they were no longer your truth.

The music started up and Alice walked down the aisle, her hair falling in soft waves around her face, the material of her dress moving lithely against her legs. I turned to look at Jasper, who was staring at her like this was their wedding and not Edward and Bella's. He was all softness, open and almost vulnerable in the way his eyes searched her face and when I looked back at her, she was completely alive underneath his gaze. She took her place next to Carlisle, her eyes meeting mine, and she blew me a surreptitious kiss.

Angela went next and then the music faded away. Everyone stood in one fluid motion. I could hear the rustle of clothes, a throat clearing, a sniffle. Everything went completely still, like we were all holding our breath, and I turned toward the back of the aisle, my eyes pricking with tears.

The violin started, drawing out its first note. There was a swell of music and as it ebbed into something softer, Bella appeared at the end of the aisle on Charlie's arm. She was beautiful, her skin pale against the ivory satin of her simple strapless dress. Her hair was down and dark, falling softly over her shoulders and she was clutching a lush bouquet of white flowers. She looked a little shaky as Charlie guided her, but her eyes were focused ahead and the smile on her face was brilliant. As they passed by us, I looked over at Edward. He looked incandescent and dizzy with happiness, his eyes bright behind a veil of moisture. He was watching Bella move closer to him and the look on his face was one of wonder. I tasted salt on my lips before I realized that I was crying and Esme wordlessly handed me a tissue, dabbing at her own eyes.

I could never have prepared myself for the power of this moment. It was achingly beautiful and so emotional and I was surprised that I could breathe at all considering how thick my throat was with tears. My heart had slowed, though, was steady against my chest and although it hurt, it was still in one piece. I could feel it and this pain was like the long-coiled muscle that was slowly releasing. This was the heart that was letting go.

The music stopped and other than the slight squeak of chairs as everyone sat down, it was quiet. Charlie released Bella and Edward shook his hand and then he was staring down at Bella. I saw his lips move, mouthing, "I love you." They turned toward Carlisle, hands intertwined, and he smiled down at them and then at out at the guests.

Esme took my hand as her husband began to speak, her thumb moving back and forth along my skin.

"Friends, we have been invited here today to share with Bella and Edward an incredibly important moment in their lives," Carlisle said. "In the years they've been together, their love, trust and commitment to one another has grown and today begins a new kind of commitment, one that is permanent and binding, a true testament to the depth of their love."

I watched my childhood best friend marry the girl he'd loved and shared a life with for years. They exchanged simple vows, their eyes saying everything they didn't need to say to one another out loud. They spoke silently of promise and love, of dedication and determination, of forever, and I soaked up my tears with a balled-up tissue, listening to Esme quietly cry next to me.

_I couldn't have missed this_, I thought as Edward slipped a diamond band onto Bella's slim finger. A tear escaped down my cheek and hers and I was starting to understand the difference between remembering and holding on, between appreciating what I had in the past and honoring that while giving myself permission to move forward. I'd been frozen for so long, looking over my shoulder and so focused on the things that were behind me that I hadn't been able to fully appreciate my present, the possibility of my future.

When Edward and Bella kissed, my eyes wandered to Emmett and somehow I wasn't surprised to find him watching me. I smiled and he did, too, and I took a deep, shaky breath. I thought about our conversation last night, our murmurs of "someday" and I wondered if he was thinking of that now, if he was hopeful at all, or wistful.

"Friends and family, may I be the first to present to you Edward and Bella Cullen," Carlisle said. I stood with everyone else, all of the people that had been important to them in one way or another, and clapped as they made their way down the aisle, hands intertwined, the living and breathing definition of happiness.

Just moments ago they had said _I do_. It was just two words, but they were so absolute. Those words were a promise that they'd made to their future. Watching them walk down the aisle, I could almost feel my heart, battle-weary but lighter than it had been for so long, making that same commitment to the promise of my own future, as open and boundless as an infinite stretch of ocean. It assured me _I will. _

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**A/N: By the time you read this, FFn will no longer be fail. Happy Tuesday!**

**Being my beta is practically a full-time job and hmonster4 puts up with it (and me). Thanks to her for always making it better. Thanks also to LightStarDusting and AccioBourbon for pre-reading and cheerleading and to LoreliD for her support and hand-holding. ILY guys!**

**Hey, have you heard of Twilight Counsel? It's a fantastic mentoring program and sign-ups for mentors starts tomorrow. Go to http://twilightcounsel(dot)livejournal(dot)com ****for more information. **

**Thank you guys for continuing to be so lovely with your alerts and faves and reviews. I appreciate it - and you - so much!  
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**See you soon! :) **


	16. Ch 15: Your Hand in Mine

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

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It was getting late, but the band was just warming up.

Maybe it was their newest member infusing the extra energy into their songs – Emmett was on stage sharing the microphone with the lead singer, collar popped and tie long gone. Jasper and Edward were standing just below him, arms slung around one another, singing the Journey song at the top of their lungs while their beer bottles waved precariously in the air. Alice was a few feet away recording it all on her phone, though it was probably going to be useless later considering she was dancing as she did it. I looked around from my spot at the back of the dance floor, watching Charlie spin Bella around in a small circle, his eyes bright. I saw Esme and Carlisle amid the other moving bodies, dancing to an unknown, slower beat. The air was thick with celebration and laughter and I smiled to myself, shaking my head.

The open bar had either been a bad idea or a brilliant one, although I was leaning more toward brilliant. I'd lost count of all of the opportunities for blackmail, but I was drunk and would probably forget it all as soon as my head hit my pillow. I could almost feel the champagne bubbles fizzing through my blood stream. My body felt buoyant and light, my mind just fuzzy enough that I was able to fully let go and relax. It was a welcome change from the weight I'd been carrying around earlier, that bittersweet mixture of happiness and sadness during the ceremony. In its place I only felt content and slow, thanks to free alcohol, good food and better company.

My eyes wandered to Emmett. He was more laughing out the song than singing it now, his cheeks flushed, the first two buttons on his shirt undone. I remembered his nimble fingers pulling at the tidy knot, desperate to get it off after professional pictures had been taken, and the smile he'd given me when he set the silken mess of fabric next to my purse on the table, his gaze warmer than the evening sun spreading gold and orange and deep, vibrant pink across the sky.

We'd talked and laughed our way through the cocktail hour, our voices carrying over everyone else's in the backyard. Jasper and Emmett taunted Edward about their impending speech between gulps of beer and Edward pretended not to be concerned, though his eyes darted to Esme and Carlisle mingling a few feet away. His nervousness spurred conversation of drunken nights and antics that we'd never want our parents to know about and soon we were in hysterics listening to Emmett recount the time in college that he flew down a flight of stairs on a cafeteria tray during a particularly raucous party. He'd pulled up his pant leg to show me the scar just above his knee from slamming into a cabinet – too much momentum and beer had given him no shot at stopping – and I'd stooped down instinctively, running my finger along the peaked skin. When I'd looked back up, I saw his mouth first, pulled into a slow grin, and then everyone else, smiling like they were in on some kind of secret. I'd kept my hands to myself after that, my clasped fingers twitching against one another with the need to touch him again. I chatted with Alice and Bella, who kept getting pulled away by guests wanting to congratulate her, but I'd felt him next to me, close but not touching, could hear his voice, and I'd felt both on edge and at ease.

When it came time for speeches, they'd all jumped on stage and I'd settled in next to Ben at the table. Jasper and Emmett's speech was hilarious and only mildly embarrassing, detailing the ways in which Edward had gotten wound so tightly around Bella's finger. They passed the microphone back and forth, interrupting one another to add or correct when necessary, and by the end had everyone wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. Edward cheerfully flipped them off and then pulled them into a quick hug, laughing and nodding as Emmett murmured something to him.

Alice spoke after Angela and the mood turned more emotional. Her words were brief but poignant and I'd pretended that the tears gathering at the corners of my eyes were the remnants of my laughter from Jasper and Emmett's speech. The way she talked about Edward and Bella's love for one another and how it had grown over the years was ripe with familiarity. I couldn't help the way my heart clenched a bit hearing her talk that way. I knew now that there was a place for both of us in Alice's life but it still hurt a little, just a fleeting whisper of muscles contracting. It happened again more potently when Emmett pulled Bella into a bear hug, dropping a kiss on top of her head. But then they all came back to me, swept me up in their tidal wave of laughter and conversation, and when Emmett placed his hand on the bare skin between my shoulder blades as he sat down next to me, the ache disappeared, replaced by something unnamable, not quite tangible.

A breeze picked up and I blinked out of the memory, looking back toward the stage. Alice had taken Bella's place as Charlie's dance partner and was spinning underneath his outstretched arm, her dress whirling out and undulating in the cool breeze. Emmett had left the stage and was standing with Edward and Jasper. He caught me watching them and he tilted his head. His eyes and expression were curious as he beckoned me with a crook of his finger and I swore I felt a physical tug in my body with the motion. But then a flash of ivory stepped into my peripheral vision and when I turned my head, I saw Bella making her way to the bar.

I thought about my conversation with Edward earlier, how good it felt to tell him I was happy for him and mean it, and I wondered if the same sentiment would mean anything to Bella. There'd been a subtle feeling of something unfinished between the two of us and I knew this would probably be my last opportunity for us to talk for a while. And I realized that I did want to talk. I wanted to put all of it behind me and move forward, and I wouldn't be able to do that unless I did _this_. I looked back at Emmett and held up a finger and he nodded, his gaze steadfast on me even as he continued his conversation with Jasper.

My heels sank into the grass as I walked over to Bella. She was miraculously alone, her elbows resting on the counter as the bartender poured her a glass of champagne. She was wearing Edward's suit jacket over her dress, which was grass-stained at the hem, and I knew there was only a small window of opportunity before someone else came up to her, so my steps were fast. I didn't even know what I was going to say to her or if this was the right time, but she'd handled all of the other terribly timed moments this week gracefully, so I kept going until I was standing just behind her, my fingers touching her elbow briefly.

"Bella?"

She looked over her shoulder, her eyes a little unfocused, her smile hazy and far away. Her eyes brightened when she saw me and she stood up straight.

"Rose, hi," she replied, grabbing her glass and handing it to me. I started to protest, mainly because the last thing I needed was more booze but also because I didn't want to steal her drink. She saw my hesitation and shook her head, turning back toward the bartender before I could even open my mouth. When she faced me again, she had her own glass.

"Thank you," I said, lifting my glass slightly before taking a gulp. It tasted like sparkling water going down and I had to remind myself for the third time in as many hours to slow the hell down. If I wasn't careful, I'd end up like Emmett, the second coming of Steve Perry. I smiled against the rim of the glass at the thought.

Bella caught my smile and raised an eyebrow. "No need for thanks, just enjoy it."

"I think we've _all_ been enjoying it." I looked over my shoulder at the sound of raucous laughter and saw Edward, Jasper and Emmett, drinks in hand and mouths stretched into wide, open grins. Alice was still dancing with Charlie and I heard Bella's husky chuckle. "Maybe a little too much."

"I know," she said, shaking her head. "I had to tell Edward to slow down. He's trying to keep up with Emmett, which is just…"

"Never a good thing," I supplied and we both laughed. Every time Edward and Emmett got competitive when drinking, it ended with Edward's head in the toilet. Or the bushes. Or, once, on Alice's shoes, which didn't go over well at all.

"No, the last thing I need is him barfing on the plane tomorrow morning."

I looked sideways at her, wondering if we'd end up at the airport at the same time. The thought of hanging out with them while they waited to fly off to Turks and Caicos for their honeymoon sent me into a fierce case of mental cringe. I'd come a long way, but I wasn't sure I'd come quite _that_ far. "What time are you leaving?"

"Early. Carlisle and Esme are picking us up at five." She grimaced and looked down at the glass in her hand remorsefully. "I probably should quit after this."

I let out a hum of agreement, then squinted down at my glass appraisingly, shrugged and downed the rest of it anyway. Setting my empty glass down, I leaned back against the bar, mirroring Bella's position, and we watched in silence as people danced and mingled all around us. Edward kept looking over his shoulder at us curiously until Alice danced up to him and wrapped her arm around his waist, turning him back toward the band. He smiled down at her affectionately, his hand curling up to rest on top of her head and she winked at us over her shoulder. Bella let out a soft snort that mingled with my laugh and we looked at each other, our expressions identical in their exasperated affection for our mutual best friend.

Our silence began to stretch out and it was companionable but I was restless and I could feel her shifting next to me. She drew in a deep breath.

"Listen, I –" she started.

"Thank y –" I blurted at the same time. We both stopped, our laughter a little awkward and stilted.

"You go," she said, motioning to me with her champagne glass.

"I just wanted to say thank you for…" I trailed off, shaking my head. "For god, I don't know, being so understanding about all of this shit that happened between me and Edward. I know the timing was terrible and it was intense and weird and uncomfortable."

"It wasn't weird or uncomfortable," she murmured, her dark eyes earnest.

"Jesus, it was for me," I said with another awkward laugh. This week had been an intense conglomeration of ups and downs and I knew the emotional weight of everything that had been said and done hadn't just affected Edward and me. Everyone had been caught in its wake at one point or another and I knew Bella's statement was more diplomatic than the situation deserved.

"The timing wasn't ideal," Bella conceded. Her lips twisted into a wry smile and she took a sip of champagne then started swirling it thoughtfully. I looked back down at my feet as her voice went soft. "But that's life, you know? I'm glad that you and Edward had a chance to talk before the wedding." When I looked back up at her, she was watching me closely. "And I'm _really_ glad you're here, Rose."

"I'm glad, too," I said, exhaling. I felt lighter saying that, knowing it was true and honest. Bella's face broke into a smile and she laid her hand on my forearm, squeezing briefly before pulling away.

We would never be best friends. I knew that and I was fairly certain she did, too. But I knew now that there was a possibility for us to be friends in a different way, to forge a connection that wasn't tied to Edward or Alice. I marveled silently at the thought, of feeling something other than bitterness and resentment toward her, and I let out another deep breath that came from somewhere deep inside of me.

"It's getting cold, huh?" I said as a chilly breeze rolled over us. I crossed my arms and ran hands up and down my arm, trying to create some warmth.

"Yeah, gosh, you must be freezing," Bella replied, frowning slightly. She gestured toward the house. "I'm sure Esme has a sweater or something you can borrow."

"No, that's okay. I have a wrap in my car. I'll just run out and get it."

"Okay," she said with a nod. "I guess I'd better get back to Edward before he gets completely obliterated."

I laughed, shaking my head. Bella straightened and were we not Rosalie and Bella, this would probably have been the part where we'd hug. But instead I tucked my hair behind my ear and gave her a smile that she returned warmly. And then we turned in opposite directions, me toward my car and Bella toward her husband.

I slipped out the side gate and walked as quickly to my car as my heels would allow. I remembered as my hand closed around the handle that the keys were in my purse but when I pulled on it, cursing under my breath, it opened. I said a silent prayer of thanks to my past self for being too distracted to lock the door, then grabbed the wrap laid out on the backseat.

I shivered my way back around the house but stopped short with a shriek when I saw a dark, looming figure just past the gate. My heart stopped with a shudder and then started up again, racing in protest. I heard a familiar laugh, deep and amused and definitely drunk.

"Shit, you scared me," I gasped finally. My heart was still racing, but I wasn't so sure it was from the shock of being snuck up on.

"It's not like I jumped out at you, Hale," Emmett replied. He stepped closer to me and into the moonlight. My poor, abused heart skipped as I took in his illuminated features. God, he was gorgeous. His jaw was probably illegal in some states.

"What are you doing out here?" I asked.

He shrugged, moving closer still. "I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure you didn't wander out into the road."

I snorted, a little dizzy. That last glass of champagne was hitting me suddenly. "Who am I, Alice?"

He laughed again and I swore I felt it vibrate through my body. "No, but you're drunk. I was trying to be chivalrous."

"Well, one drunk looking out for another drunk isn't exactly setting the standard for safety," I pointed out. "Besides, I was just getting my wrap."

"Yeah, you must be cold, all half naked like that." His mouth twitched as his gaze swept over me.

"I'm not half naked." I huffed indignantly, but I did feel suddenly exposed by the way his eyes lingered on my face, my shoulders, my collarbone, so I started to unravel my wrap, which I'd somehow managed to work into a knot.

"Trust me, I'm not complaining." He watched me struggle for a second, then stepped forward and took it from my hands. "Here, let me."

"I've got –" I started, faltering as he began to loosen the knot. The fabric cascaded over his hands and he shook it out, then draped it over my shoulders. "Well, okay."

His fingers grazed against my skin and it erupted in goose bumps, leaving a raised path where he touched me. I swallowed hard. He was the poster child for concentration as he pulled the two ends together, his brow furrowed and bottom lip puffed out slightly, and I took the opportunity to let myself drink him in. He was standing only inches away from me and every time he exhaled, it stirred my hair. I watched his hands pause with the two ends of the gauzy wrap, unsure of what to do next. They looked so out of place clutching the fabric, a little unsure as they made a messy loop, but his smile was satisfied when he looked at me and dusted off his hands.

"There, done."

"That's not how you do it," I laughed, unknotting it. I tried to re-drape it around my shoulders, but my fingers were as drunk as the rest of me, clumsy and slow, and the wrap slipped away from me, drifting to the ground.

"You're right," Emmett said dryly, though his sarcasm was lost a bit in the slight slur of his words. "Your way is much better."

I rolled my eyes and started to bend down, but the slim fit of my dress stopped me halfway. I pursed my lips, feeling Emmett's eyes on me as I tried to figure out the best way to crouch down without toppling over. His shoulder grazed mine as he bent down and snatched it off the ground.

"That would've been a fun show to watch, but I don't think you want to rip your dress." He started to hand it back to me and my fingers brushed against the back of his knuckles, then grasped at the cool night air when he pulled his hand back. "Here, why don't you wear my jacket instead? This thing isn't going to keep you warm."

I opened my mouth in protest, but he was already shrugging out of his suit coat. He held it out to me and I slipped it on, reveling in the heat from his body, the subtle scent of him along the lapel. He draped my wrap around his neck and I laughed quietly. He looked ridiculous and goofy and still so handsome.

"That's a good look for you, McCarty," I said.

"Oh, I know. Now hold up your hands," he murmured. I did as I was told, watching silently as he rolled each sleeve up until my hands were showing again. He nodded at his handiwork. "There you go, all fixed."

He grinned at me and I grinned back unsteadily. "Thank you."

"Wait, one more thing…" he trailed off. I stilled instinctively, my gaze going to the chiseled line of his jaw as he stepped forward.

Reaching behind me, he drew my hair out from underneath the collar of his jacket. His fingers swept along the back of my neck, drawing out a shiver that started from the base of my spine and crackled up my back, raising the hairs on my scalp. My eyes closed and the loss of vision sent me swaying dangerously. I heard and felt him laughing at me, smelled the alcohol on his breath as it fanned over my face, and his hands moved to cradle my head, his thumbs sweeping gently across my skin before settling just in front of my ears. If I thought his fingers against my neck felt good, it was nothing compared to the sensation of them tangled in my hair, of him supporting me like this. I swayed again, but it had nothing to do with the champagne this time.

"Just how drunk are you?" His warm voice spread over me like honey.

I considered his question for a long moment, eyes still closed. Music was wafting from around the corner and I could hear a crescendo of laughter and clinking glasses, but it felt like we were completely alone, hidden from the rest of the world.

"Give me a scale."

"_Okay_," he said, drawing the word out. "Let's be creative and do one to ten."

I opened my eyes and gazed up at him, the stars spread out and twinkling just behind his head. "Four point two."

"The fact that you didn't use a whole number means you're at least a six, but I think it's even higher than that." His voice dropped low and he shot me an amused grin, his hands falling back down to his side. "How'd that happen so fast?"

"It was the muffin," I sighed, already mourning our loss of contact.

Emmett raised an eyebrow. "The muffin?"

"Yeah, the bran muffin," I replied, thinking of the mealy pastry Alice had left on my nightstand earlier. In hindsight, I knew I should have eaten something more substantial, but my stomach had been too full of nerves to handle anything else. "I had that and coffee for breakfast – well, lunch too – and Alice kept giving me champagne, so by the time we ate dinner I had no chance."

"You're kind of a lightweight, you know that?"

I tilted my head and cocked my hip. "And you look kind of pretty with my wrap around your neck. What's your point?"

"You know, Rosalie," he began. The syllables and vowels of my name stretched out against his tongue, moving over me like a caress. It made my already shaky knees weak, the languid way he drew it out. "That's at least the millionth time you've said something about my devastating good looks this week. Are we a little fixated maybe? You want a piece of this?"

His voice was lilting, teasing, his eyes twinkling brighter than the stars that shone above us.

I shook my head, trying not to smile. I stood no chance against him, though. His eyes darted over my face as I lost the battle with my mouth and it stretched out and up. "Oh, you're devastating all right."

"Devastatingly handsome?" he guessed. Out came the dimples.

"Devastatingly a pain in my ass," I corrected.

"And handsome."

I pretended to consider it, then reached up to press my thumb against one of his dimples, my hand curving around the edge of his jaw. I'd wanted to do this all week, every time he smiled, and his grin grew wider now as he leaned into my touch. I wanted to tell him that handsome was a major understatement, like saying the Pope was kind of religious or that Lady Gaga didn't care much for pants. But instead I squinted up at him, slapped his cheek lightly and said, "Dance with me?"

He looked down at me, his eyes heavy-lidded and a little glazed. "I thought you'd never ask," he replied lowly.

We made our way back around the house and toward the dance floor side by side, our fingers brushing against one another sporadically, sparking when skin hit skin. I saw Alice and Jasper at the far end. Despite the fact that the band was playing an up-tempo song, she was pressed against him, standing on his feet, her shoes long gone. She was grasping her bouquet in one hand and holding onto his neck with the other, looking up at him wickedly. Jasper bent down, his mouth pressed against her ear. Bella and Edward were nearby, wrapped up in one another, their faces millimeters apart. I followed the broad span of Emmett's shoulders as he cut through the crowd, stepping in front of me to clear a path for us. I thought about reaching for his arm or latching onto the back of his shirt and it was as if he knew, because his hand snaked behind his back. I didn't hesitate to take it, my fingers curling around his. We found a spot quickly and he turned just as the music morphed into something considerably slower.

"A slow song, how convenient," he said, pulling me against his body. I curved into him instinctively, wound my arms around his neck and pressed my palm against the warm skin there. We fit together easily, effortlessly.

I shrugged, hoping he couldn't feel how hard my heart was beating. "I may have slipped the band a ten."

"Wow, is that all I'm worth to you?" he teased.

I craned my neck to look up at him. Even in my heels, he was much taller than me. I felt small and fragile in his arms, an impressive feat considering I hadn't felt particularly petite since the summer before my growth spurt in ninth grade. He was watching me, mouth smiling and eyes probing, and my words were drawn out of me before I even fully understood what I was saying, directly from somewhere in my chest and out into the air between us.

"No, you're worth much more than that."

I didn't know what kind of answer he was expecting, but that one clearly wasn't it. His brows drew together, just for a second, and his eyes flashed with surprise and something else that I was too slow and drunk to figure out. The corners of his mouth twitched, not down or up but out, his dimples flashing. God, he was so close to me. I wasn't used to so little space between our bodies and I felt exposed, all open nerves and fluttering heart and twisting stomach. I wondered if he was only the source of this energy that flowed into me whenever our skin touched. Did it go straight into me, stay trapped in my body? It felt like it, the way I was buzzing, but then I saw the gold flecks in his eyes glowing like embers and I thought maybe he felt this, too. The possibility that it was as potent for him as it was for me made my breath catch and my heart dip.

It was so intense, too intense for this moment and where we were, so I took a deep breath and plowed on. "_I _think you're worth at least fifty, but you probably lost credibility when you got all the lyrics to 'Don't Stop Believin'' wrong."

He laughed, thank god, and the insistent hum was still there, but it was lessened by the smooth tenor of his voice. "I didn't get them _all _wrong."

"I'd say a solid seventy percent."

"Sixty-five point three," he shot back.

"Oh, _now_ who's drunk with the decimal points?"

He lifted his eyebrows. "I'm very open about my level of drunkenness, Barb. I just handle it better than you."

I made a noise that landed somewhere between a bark and a snort. "I'm very good at holding my liquor, I'll have you know."

"If you could see yourself right now, you'd be laughing at that statement."

I pulled a hand from its resting place against his neck and reached up to my face self-consciously, pressing my fingers against my cheeks as if that would give me some insight into his comment. "Wha - how do you see me?" I asked.

"How do I see you?" He was doing that thing, the infinitely amused and cryptic thing, and I narrowed my eyes at him in warning. He smiled back innocently, letting his eyes wander over my face. He lingered on my mouth, then pulled his gaze back up. "Well, right _now _your face is a little red, which only happens when you've been drinking. And you've got a drunk smile."

"I do?"

He nodded and I was sure I was wearing it now. I felt an indescribable warmth knowing that he'd noticed the difference between my sober and drunk smile, or the fact that there was a difference in the first place.

The drunkenness of our friends had apparently eradicated their ability to be subtle. They were suddenly right next to us, interrupting the moment Emmett and I had been in the middle of, and I heard Jasper humming what sounded like porno music and Edward chortling. When I looked around Emmett's shoulder to flip them both off, there were four pairs of eyes on the two of us, and four grins to go with the curious looks.

"Ignore," Emmett muttered, laughter rumbling low in his chest.

"But –"

"Shh," he murmured, pressing his fingers against my spine. I exhaled, my mouth dangerously close to his neck, and I felt his heartbeat, strong and steady, through the fabric of my dress.

"Did you just shush me?"

"Yep. No more talking, only dancing. They're just jealous 'cause we've got incredible moves."

I snorted and tried to pull back to look at him but his hand flattened on my back, confident and demanding, keeping me in place.

"Resistance is futile," he continued and I could hear the amusement in his voice. I wanted to see his face, the way his eyes twinkled and his dimples deepened, but I also liked it like this, just feeling him, letting him lead me and control my body with his. I closed my eyes, my temple grazing the side of his jaw. I didn't care that everyone could see this and us. It felt good and right and I was tired of thinking.

"One more," Emmett said when one slow song morphed into another. His fingers pressed lightly against the dip of my lower back, holding me in place as if there was a chance I'd leave if he didn't keep me pressed against him. At this rate, he would be lucky if he could peel me off of him. His rhythm was hypnotic, the feeling of his arms around me addicting, and I wasn't trying to go anywhere.

We moved in a lazy, slow circle, my knees brushing against his legs as we swayed together. My hand was captured in his and pressed to his chest and I could feel his heart thumping beneath our tangled fingers. Every time we'd turn so that Emmett faced Jasper and Alice or Edward and Bella, I'd feel his hand leave my back or his jaw moving or hear him laugh. I was too content in my position to turn around and investigate, though, tucked against him, cocooned in his jacket and his arms.

When the song ended, Esme and Carlisle swept up next to us, glowing with laughter and happiness and probably alcohol.

"Hey, kids," Esme called over the music, her forehead resting lightly against Carlisle's chin. I grinned at her and she winked, her eyes passing briefly over my hand enveloped in Emmett's.

"You've got some Fred Astaire-type moves, Dr. C," Emmett said. "Teach me your ways."

"You seem to be holding up pretty well there," Carlisle observed with a smile. His gaze moved to me. "It's a little strange not having to look down to see you dancing."

"Is that your nice way of saying we were ankle biters?" I asked, nodding my head back to Edward, who was in the process of dipping Bella, and Alice, still standing on Jasper's feet. Her bouquet had mysteriously disappeared, though Jasper had a flower stuck behind his ear.

"Hardly," Carlisle replied. "The end of the night with you kids was our favorite part, wasn't it, Es?"

Esme nodded, pulling back so she could look up at her husband. Her eyes were soft, affectionate, and he grinned down at her. "I think Carlisle might've liked dancing with you and Alice even better than he liked dancing with me."

"You know that's not true," Carlisle argued.

Esme rubbed his back reassuringly, ducking her head so that only Emmett and I could see her rolling her eyes and mouthing, "It's true."

I looked at Carlisle with a smile, batting my eyelashes dramatically. "So, what do you say? Can I talk you into a whirl around the dance floor for old time's sake?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart," Esme spoke up, stepping away from Carlisle. He winked down at her and then held out a hand to me.

"Oh, _okay_, just bogart my dance partner," Emmett huffed, releasing his hold on me. I looked up at him as I took Carlisle's hand and he was grinning, all dimples and dark, rumpled hair.

The alcohol that had apparently replaced the blood in my veins kicked in, lending me liquid courage. My heart thumped against my chest in time with the music, vibrated in my veins and I felt a smile, my drunk one, melt across my lips. "Don't worry, I'll come back to you."

"You'd better," he replied lightly, though his eyes were intent and searching, and then whirled Esme off toward Jasper and Alice, who were now attempting a bastardized version of the tango.

I turned back to Carlisle, resting a hand on his shoulder. It was strange not having to crane my neck to look up at him, not standing on his feet like I'd done when I was little. "Ready for this?"

"Ready," he confirmed with a smile, holding me lightly at the waist, his hand grasping mine. His tone and grin were teasing. "Lead away."

I tried to feign indignation, but a snort escaped. I'd been a precocious thing on the dance floor when I was little, a tiny dictator, and Carlisle had always played along gamely, twirling and dipping me when I'd demanded it, which had been every ten seconds. I'd loved the rush of air through my hair and against my cheeks when he'd pick me up and tip me back. I could still remember seeing everyone upside down, remembered the sensation of blood rushing into my cheeks and roaring through my ears. Edward and Alice would dance below us while I shrieked and Carlisle laughed, and I'd stretch my tiny hands toward them every time he sent me reeling backward.

"I've learned how to dance properly since I was seven, Carlisle. You can lead, thank you very much," I sniffed, my mouth twitching to hold back a smile. His eyes sparkled with good humor and amusement and he looked so much like Edward in that moment. I knew that look so well, had seen it on Edward's face so many times growing up, and it sent a jolt of nostalgia through me.

He laughed, guiding me into movement. "I'm sure you have. You've also grown a few inches since you were seven. Sometimes I forget you kids aren't kids anymore."

"I think we forget it, too," I said, looking over to see Emmett sweeping Bella off her feet and spinning her in a circle. Her dress floated out around her feet and Edward, now dancing with Esme, caught my eye and rolled his eyes with a smile. I smiled back, feeling a pang in my chest. This was all so familiar and yet so different. How was that possible? I'd been here so many times before, had been in Carlisle's arms twirling around the dance floor, had been on the receiving end of Edward's smile and had heard Alice's laughter ringing like a bell in the night air. It was all the same but it was different. _We _were the same and different, grown up with those childhood versions of ourselves tucked deep down inside of us.

I'd spent a lot of time this week thinking about what it meant to grow up, and I realized that sometimes you didn't just grow up. You grew _out_. You grew through and past. I realized that growing also meant stretching. It meant coming to terms with change and accepting it, understanding that nothing stayed the same even when you thought you wanted it to. Sometimes it meant letting go and moving on.

I'd felt it all these past five days, and I knew growing up wasn't a process that ended. I wouldn't get on the plane tomorrow and be done with the complex mixture of emotions that had woven themselves into my heart and mind. But god, it felt good to breathe without a knot in my throat to slow the air down. It felt good to smile against that ever-lessening ache and be in the middle of this. It was freeing to let go in ways that weren't permanent or huge, to drink and dance and laugh, to make new memories that were still somehow tied to the old ones, that helped me remember where I'd come from and how far I'd traveled on this road.

"Is it strange for you to see us like this?" I asked finally, looking back up at the man who had helped raise me in so many ways, who had been a father figure and had helped shape me just as much as my own parents had.

Carlisle nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful. "Strange in the sense that I can't believe you're all old enough to live on your own and get married. It makes me feel like an old man." He laughed and I did, too, because beyond the gray hairs peppering his sideburns and the subtle lines around his eyes, he looked the same as he had when I was young. I couldn't imagine him ever getting or looking old. "But it's also amazing, Rose. There's nothing we want more than the best for all of you, and you have it. That's all we can hope for as parents."

I smiled up at him, then pulled him close into a quick hug. "Thank you, Carlisle."

"For the dance or the talk?" he asked.

"Both," I replied. Carlisle dropped a kiss on my forehead and then spun me out into a twirl that made me feel like I was seven again, that pulled a delighted laugh from my lungs.

Jasper appeared at our side as the song ended and a fast one started up, grinning. "Can I steal her away from you?"

"Of course," Carlisle said, delivering me into Jasper's arms with a wink before going off in search of Esme.

"She looks beautiful tonight, doesn't she?" Jasper said, his eyes glued to Alice as she and Emmett danced circles around us. His voice was reverent and low and he looked back down at me, shaking his head. "I'm really goddamn lucky, Barb."

"We all are," I replied, letting my gaze linger on Emmett while they made another revolution around us. Edward and Bella were right there, too, kissing and laughing and it felt like we were the only ones on the dance floor, the only ones in this backyard.

"You look nice, too, by the way," he said as an afterthought.

I rolled my eyes and patted him on the back and he kissed my temple, then spun me around and suddenly I was in Edward's arms and he was whirling me around while Jasper moved on to Bella. It was like a game of musical chairs, all of us moving between one another, orbiting around each other the way we used to at school dances in high school or clubs in college. It was an effortless movement that I knew was special, that I reveled being a part of.

"Hey, Rose," Edward sighed, looking about five sheets to the wind. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, but he was grinning and happy and it made me happy, too.

"You're going to be hurting tomorrow," I told him, which was probably hypocritical coming from me. I'd be lucky if my hangover didn't stretch into Monday.

He nodded, his eyes warm on me. "But it's tonight right now, and right now I feel good."

"It's a good night," I replied. God, and it was. The band was just starting up with a new song and when I looked over my shoulder, I saw Carlisle dancing with Esme. There was truly nothing greater than seeing a grown man dance to 'SexyBack', particularly when that grown man was Carlisle. Everyone was loose and relaxed, happy and definitely drunk, but it was the perfect end to this week that had been so surprising, so full and intense. We all needed this.

Emmett and Bella danced up with Jasper and Alice, surrounding us. Edward grinned at me and squeezed my hand, then took off toward Bella, picking her up around the waist and burying his head into the crook of her neck. I made my way over to Emmett and he took my hand, pulling me close. I looked up at him and he smiled down at me, eyes soft and a little hazy. The music vibrated all around us and I felt Alice's fingers brush against mine, felt her hair against my back as she danced with Jasper. I was enveloped, right in the middle of everything that mattered in my world for the moment. I never wanted to forget what this felt like.

I smiled and tipped my head back, letting the feeling and the music and the champagne take over. It was a good night indeed.

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**A/N: Happy Wednesday!**

**The usual thanks to the usual suspects – hmonster4 is amazing and awesome and kicks my ass sometimes, but I love her for it. Thanks also to LightStarDusting and AccioBourbon for pre-reading this one, and additionally to LoreliD for moral support. You are the best!**

**I'm so sorry this took longer than anticipated to get up. Thank you all for being so patient and lovely. I really do have the best readers, hands down, and I promise next chapter will be up more quickly. We're in the home stretch now – only 6 or 7 chapters left. **

**See you soon! **


	17. Ch 16: Times Like These

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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There was a tiny man inside my head. His hands were wrapped around my brain and shaking it so vigorously that it was knocking against my skull. That was the only explanation for the incessant pounding and what felt distinctly like seasickness. I wondered in my semi-conscious state if the mattress had somehow been swapped for a water bed because I swore it was moving underneath me. I wouldn't have been surprised, given that the décor was a nostalgic homage to the eighties, and certainly not in the ironic sense.

The pounding mercifully ceased and I breathed into the pillow, my face pressed against it. I braced my hands against the headboard, hoping that would somehow ground me, would stop the waves of dizziness from lapping at the edges of my brain.

It started again. I moaned pathetically and rolled onto my side, curling up into the fetal position. I realized a second later that the tiny man was not a man at all but rather the combination of a brutal hangover and someone pounding at my door. I wondered how long it would take me to crawl to the door and answer it. Maybe whoever was on the other side would get tired of using what I could only assume was a battering ram to try and rouse me so I could lay here until this feeling went away.

"Are you dead?" a voice called. It sounded like Alice's, only huskier.

I rolled my eyes and then whimpered because even _that_ hurt.

The champagne had been a bad idea. I knew better than to drink champagne, especially in large quantities and on a nearly empty stomach. Champagne took a normal hangover and magnified and intensified it so that even my nail beds were now cursing my bad decision to continue indulging long into the night.

My recollection of the later hours of last night was fuzzy. I vaguely recalled dancing – a lot, if the dull ache in arches of my feet was any indication – and drinking and laughing and drinking some more. I remembered dancing with Emmett, laughing as he pulled out all the ridiculous dance moves in his repertoire, and feeling him around me even when he was across the yard. I remembered all six of us dancing, song after song after song, until the little hairs at the base of my neck stuck to my damp skin. There was a hazy memory of the boys with unlit cigars hanging from their mouths, sunglasses on and Jasper with the remainder of Alice's bouquet stuck in the back pocket of his dress pants.

I semi-clearly recalled standing in the driveway with everyone at the end of the night while Esme, tired but sober, waited to drive me back to the hotel. I was grateful for my drunken state even then. It was easier to say goodbye that way, hazy and happy from alcohol. I'd hugged them all and told Alice, Jasper and Emmett that I'd see them in the morning. When I got to Edward, he pulled me to him and we both murmured drunken _see you soon_s that neither of us could promise, that I knew probably wasn't true. Then he released me and I pretended, just for a moment, that we'd all go back to our parents' houses and crawl into bed and think about what an amazing night it had been. I imagined that we'd get up tomorrow and there would be only a couple square miles distancing the six of us, not hundreds.

They stayed in the driveway, clustered together and waving as we pulled away. I'd leaned out the window, alternating between waving and blowing kisses. Even the champagne couldn't numb the ache I'd felt leaving the five of them standing there. This had been something extraordinary and unparalleled, equal parts painful and amazing, and it was over. I'd see them all at one point or another, though probably least of all Edward and Bella, but we'd moved as one entity this week and god only knew when that would happen again. I heard their boisterous laughter even after we turned the corner and sighed quietly, my hand over my heart. At least if this was our last hoorah for a while, it was something I'd remember forever.

I rolled the window down on the way to the hotel and listened to Esme hum along with the soft music wafting out of the radio. It reminded me of being young, when she'd drive me home after hanging out with Edward all afternoon. I'd let my hand drift on the wind, moving it up and down, slicing through the current. I'd done it again last night, watching as my fingers moved through the cool night air, then looked up at the sky while the stars sped quickly along their indigo canvas, bright specks of light that blurred past and then disappeared behind us. When she dropped me off, she'd hugged me over the console and told me not to stay away so long. I'd promised her, just like I'd promised Edward, and then climbed out of the car. The headlights had illuminated me as I stepped inside and I'd waved, seeing only the outline of her hand when she waved back.

"Rosalie?" Alice called again, bringing me back to the present. I opened my eyes and the room lurched. "Listen, I don't like this game. Can you please open the door? Or at least make a noise so I know you're alive?" Her voice dropped, like she was talking to herself. "Too much _Law & Order_, Alice. Way too much _Law & Order_."

"On my way," I croaked out, not moving.

"Oh, thank god."

It took a full minute for me to cajole my body into movement. I lurched toward the door, sideswiping the wall. After letting out a low curse, I decided that it actually made a nice impromptu crutch and leaned against it until my hand closed around the doorknob.

Alice stood there, wearing sunglasses that were half the size of her face. Her arms hung limply at her sides, her hair damp and tucked behind her ears. She looked hung over, exhausted and uncharacteristically grumpy.

"Good morning, sunshine," I mumbled. It sounded like there was gravel rolling around in my throat and now that I was upright, my head was throbbing, veins pulsing heavily.

She stumbled past me, dropped her sunglasses and purse on the desk, and then collapsed on the bed face-first. I walked to the end of the bed, gazing down at her.

"You look about as good as I feel."

She let out a noncommittal grunt and then turned her head to the side to look up at me. Her eyes were puffy, which always happened when she drank too much.

I lay down next to her and curled up on my side, pulling the neck of my t-shirt over my mouth so my morning breath wouldn't kill her. We were quiet for a moment and her eyes drifted closed several times. Finally, she sighed and rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling.

"I feel like crap," she muttered, her mouth barely moving. "I can't tell you how much effort it took to get over here."

"Where's Jasper?"

She snorted, her head lolling back to look at me. "He was still passed out when I left. You think _we _look torn up?"

"Hey!" I protested indignantly. Sure, I probably didn't look my best, but _torn up_ seemed a little dramatic. Then again, I hadn't hazarded a look in the mirror yet.

"Whatever, your torn up is most people's normal," she replied, waving her hand dismissively in the air. "You know what I mean."

"And Emmett?"

Alice's eyes got marginally sharper at my inquiry and I saw the corner of her mouth twitch. "He was catching up on some work stuff when I called him. He's going to pick Jasper up in a bit and bring your car back so you guys can jet."

I hummed in acknowledgement, my heart rate increasing at the thought of our imminent road trip. My stomach twisted, too, though I wasn't sure if it was due to my hangover or the anticipation of being alone with him for more than a handful minutes, which was all anyone had afforded us this week. Given the chemistry that had been building between us this trip, I could only imagine what it would be like when we were alone and contained in a car for four hours.

"It's nice of you to give him a ride," Alice continued, all innocence.

I looked at her out of the corner of my eye, keeping my tone and expression neutral. Any emotion I showed would be like waving a red flag in front of a bull; she'd come charging at me at the slightest indication of excitement, hangover be damned, and I was too exhausted for a full-out interrogation. "It did work out nicely."

She must have sensed my mood because she fell silent and I closed my eyes, my arm slung over my face to shield the sun. It felt stronger than usual, like Forks had somehow moved and was now situated right on the equator.

Alice stirred next to me after a few blissfully quiet minutes. "Rose?"

I groaned internally, sure she was about to bring up Emmett again. I knew her silence was too good to be true. "What?"

"You smell like booze."

My mouth dropped open and I lifted my arm from my eyes. Alice laughed and then groaned. It turned into a weird mash-up of the two as she held her head between her hands. I smacked her with as much effort possible, then surreptitiously sniffed my arm.

_Ugh_. Champagne. At least it was the expensive kind.

"Seriously, I think it's coming out of your pores," Alice said, her voice thick with amusement. "You need to go hose yourself off."

"I would've done it before you got here if you hadn't shown up unannounced," I huffed.

She raised an eyebrow. "Unannounced? I called you three times."

"Lies," I shot back, crawling up the bed to the nightstand. My purse was there, half the contents spilled out, and I plucked a pack of gum off my phone. I lit up the screen and saw that I did indeed have three missed calls.

I also had fifteen text messages.

"What the…" I muttered, opening my inbox.

"What's the matter?" Alice asked, sitting up.

I scrolled through the messages. "Alice, what the hell? These are all from you!"

They were all from last night and most of them were indecipherable, though there were a few winners that stuck out.

_Do u gave a disco stick be hinest_, one reads.

_Huess what I still love the spice giels I dont care._

_Im taking pictured of uou__, _the last readable one said. The later they were sent, the less comprehensible they got, and the last one was just a series of punctuation marks.

"You're a freak," I stated, setting my phone down. Alice shrugged in acknowledgement and I dragged myself off the bed. "Should we get some coffee after I'm out of the shower?"

"I can't even _think_ of food or say the word d-r-i-n-k without wanting to barf. I…" Alice swallowed thickly, shaking her head. "No. No coffee."

I briefly considered going to the hotel office to get my own, but those twenty or so feet seemed like twenty miles, so instead I made my way toward the shower, hoping I could wash some of this hangover off of me. I glanced over my shoulder to tell Alice she could watch TV if she wanted, but she was face down on the bed again, her limbs spread out in a starfish formation.

The hot water, steam and soap helped rejuvenate me, at least enough that I felt like a human being instead of a flask with legs when I stepped back into the bedroom. Alice was sitting up, sipping from a bottle of water, and she watched me towel-dry my hair.

"I just talked to Jasper. He and Em will be over in a bit."

I nodded, picking my comb up from the desk, and turned to her with a winning smile. "Hey, can I talk you into combing duties?"

Her eyes widened slightly and she heaved herself up, snatching it out of my hands. "Sit."

I sat down in front of the mirror and pulled my knees up to my chest. She laid a thick strand of hair against her palm and started combing through it, starting at the ends and working her way up. It was such a familiar thing, us doing this, and I marveled not for the first time this week how easily we slipped back into each other's lives in these ways, how comfortable we were. It was like these old habits and traditions were forever ingrained in us, like they were a part of our cellular memory. It was reassuring how effortlessly we fell back into our roles when we were together.

I closed my eyes as the teeth of the comb met my scalp in even, measured movements, goose bumps rising on my arms. There were very few things I loved more than having my hair combed. The room was quiet for a few minutes save for the sound of the comb working through my tangles. I could feel Alice's gaze on me, though, and I finally opened my eyes, raising my eyebrows in question. She let out a sigh.

"Can I ask you something without you getting weird on me?"

I eyed her warily. "Okay, _that _doesn't make me nervous."

She tilted her head with an exasperated sigh, her gaze wide and imploring. "Just indulge me?" She tugged gently on my hair with a smile. "You're a captive audience anyway."

"So basically I don't have a choice," I replied, already knowing the answer.

"Not really," she said matter-of-factly. I pursed my lips and waved my hand impatiently, giving her permission to proceed. "What's going on with you and Emmett?"

My heart stuttered and I struggled to maintain a neutral expression while my mind scrambled. I wasn't sure if this was a strategic move on her part, to have me in a position where I couldn't deflect or run away, but I could feel the heat of the metaphorical spotlight she'd just turned on me. I knew she'd ask at some point, but I was still foolishly caught off-guard by the question I wasn't sure I knew the answer to. My first instinct was to blurt out that nothing was going on, but I knew it wasn't_ nothing _and she quite obviously did, too. It was very much _something_, still intangible but shimmering on the horizon somewhere in front of me.

I shook my head, my mouth opening and closing. She waited patiently, her eyes focused on the comb as it moved through my hair, giving me the silence and time I needed to digest her question. "I don't know," I said finally, lowly.

"Do you have feelings for him?"

I was nodding before I even fully processed her question and I couldn't deny it. It was too soon, I knew it was, but there was something growing and I was helpless to control it, no matter how hard I tried. I couldn't put a finger or a name on it, but the physical attraction that had always existed between us had morphed into something else with a quiet intensity that had snuck up on me. It was something more distinct, more deeply rooted than what we'd ever had between us.

"Like _feelings _feelings?"

"Do you mean do I _like him _like him? Am I writing _Rosalie McCarty _all over my Lisa Frank Trapper Keeper?" I shot back, one side of my mouth drawing up. We'd had variations of this conversation so many times. We would barricade ourselves in her room or mine, giggling and eating junk food while we watched _Sixteen Candles _until we could (and often did) recite every line to one another. It was different now, of course. Our hearts weren't on the line back then, not really. We were older now and there was more at stake, so much more to gain and lose and hurt, but it was funny how the fundamental question remained the same.

"Seriously," she said, laughing and rolling her eyes.

I let out a long breath, considering her question for a moment. I hadn't let myself think about the reason for the electricity that existed between Emmett and me, the complex and confusing reactions of my mind, my heart and certainly my body when I was near him. Maybe I hadn't had the opportunity to until now because my expectations of what Edward should have meant to me, how I thought he should have fit into my life, had been blocking my ability to see anyone but him, to accept any other possibility for myself. But it was also that I'd been scared to acknowledge what those feelings could mean, because even if my heart was ready to fully let Emmett in, I was going home today and so was he, and those were two distinctly different places with many miles between them.

"I know what I feel for him isn't just friendly, or even just physical. I don't think it _ever_ was, but it's just…" I shook my head, struggling to find a way to describe the indefinable things I felt for him. I'd come up short no matter how I tried to explain it. "I don't know what to do with it yet, Alice. All of it together is kind of overwhelming, you know? And after everything that's happened with Edward this week, I feel like for the first time in so long I'm not bogged down by all of the baggage that came with our situation. I think I have to know what it feels like to just be with myself for a minute and breathe on my own."

I was surprised by my honesty and I could tell she was, too. Her eyes searched my face. "Have you guys talked about it at all?"

I blinked at her, then looked down, shaking my head. It was hard to think about talking to him about this, particularly when talking wasn't always at the forefront of my mind when he was around.

"No. He hasn't said anything to me and I don't think I should bring it up when I don't even know exactly what it _is_. We've always been this way with each other, anyway." Alice raised an eyebrow and I rolled my eyes before closing them as the comb touched my scalp again. "Okay, maybe not so…intensely. But we've always flirted. I mean, I obviously know he's attracted to me, but I don't know if he feels…" I trailed off, searching for the word, but there wasn't one that I was ready for yet, not one that would describe this properly. "I don't know if he feels the same way I do."

The comb paused and I opened my eyes, frowning at her when she didn't continue. She was staring at me, searching again, and her brows pulled together. She opened her mouth and then looked out the window, pressing her lips together, like she needed to keep whatever she was about to say locked inside.

I wanted to ask her what it was but I stayed silent, not wanting to push her only to have her push me back. I'd given away as much as I could, as much as I was ready for, and I wondered if _her _silence was an acknowledgement of that.

Finally, she sighed and rested her chin on top of my head, her arms wrapped loosely around my shoulders. I gazed at our reflections, took in her ebony hair against mine, how it made it look almost white gold. Her frame was even more petite next to my longer limbs and broader shoulders. We might have been polar opposites physically, but we were two pieces of the same puzzle in so many other way. No matter what happened and where we ended up, she would be there for me in the same way that I would always be there for her. This was true friendship, I knew, the kind that defied time and distance, the kind that had no expiration date.

I missed her already.

Her gaze was steady on me in the mirror. "Promise me something."

I placed my hand on her arm, raising an eyebrow. "I don't like promising you things, Alice. The last time I promised you something, you made me tell your mom you were staying at my house for the weekend so you could go on a camping trip with Jasper."

She laughed and her eyes went soft and far away for a second, like she was remembering. When she looked back at me, her smile was quiet, just the slight upward quirk of the corners of her mouth. "Thanks again for that, by the way. This doesn't involve subterfuge, though."

I wrinkled my nose dubiously.

"Will you please come visit us more?"

I paused and then nodded, knowing that I would, that I'd have to. Now that I had them back in my life like this, I couldn't imagine enduring the emotional distance I'd lived with the past ten months.

Alice's mouth twitched up into a full-blown grin and she squeezed me, then straightened up, suddenly perky. "Well, that was easy. Wonder why?"

I shook my head at my reflection and looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. I hadn't even thought about packing, but I knew I needed to if we were going to get out of here on time.

Alice kept me distracted with stories about the dumb shit Jasper and Emmett tended to do when they were drunk while I folded my clothes and placed them in the open suitcase next to my bed. I watched the space fill up as the hole in my chest widened, each article of clothing reminding me that this was over, that I was leaving. Alice knew somehow – best friend Spidey senses, maybe – and she came to sit down next to me, helping me place everything neatly inside, her one-sided conversation constant but soothing.

We'd just gotten done packing, my luggage now stacked neatly next to the door, and were sprawled out on the floor watching TV when Emmett and Jasper showed up.

"We have arrived," Jasper announced expansively as Alice swung open the door.

"Long night, boys?" I drawled, watching them wander in, both wearing dark sunglasses and sporting impressive stubble. Emmett was also donning a backwards baseball hat, the same one he was wearing Tuesday night when I stepped onto that back patio. I couldn't believe it was only five days ago; it felt like a lifetime, like I was wearing different skin, had a different heart. I knew I was essentially the same person now that I was then, but it was amazing how much my perspective had shifted, how in letting Edward go, I was able to let old parts of myself go, too. The armor I'd come up here wearing – the anger, the resentment – had been shed, and I felt like I was finally seeing everything underneath, like I was opening myself up in ways that I hadn't been able to before.

"You tell us," Emmett said with a wide smile that went right down to the base of my spine. He pulled off his sunglasses, hanging them from the neckline of his shirt. "You're the one on the floor."

I let out a snort and held out my hand to him. "Even a hangover can't stop your irresistible wit, can it?"

Emmett took my hand and yanked me up. The momentum of his pull mixed with my shitty post-drinking coordination skills sent me reeling forward and his arms wrapped around me instinctively, tucking me against his chest.

I looked at him, my eyes moving up from the dark shadow on his chin, along his jaw and above the cupid's bow of his lip, up until my gaze was locked onto gold-flecked aquamarine. I could still feel the weight of my conversation with Alice in the air and it set me on edge, made me feel a little out of body around him. Now that I'd acknowledged to someone other than myself that something was happening between us, it felt even stronger, more potent and full of potential.

"How're you feeling, dancing queen?" he asked, pulling back as his eyes swept over my face and lower like he was checking for damage.

"I think I should be calling _you_ that," I replied with a laugh, thinking of all his ridiculous dance moves last night. I was pretty sure at one point we were battling on the dance floor. "You stole the show."

He grinned with a shrug. "What else is new?"

"You need your bags loaded up, Rose?" Jasper asked.

I turned to him and nodded, reluctantly stepping away from Emmett. He hooked his thumb toward the bathroom and then squeezed past me, our fingers intertwining for a brief second as his hand lingered against mine. "I'm going to hit up the facilities real quick. We should probably get on the road soon, yeah?"

"Yeah. Jazz, I'll help you with the bags," I said, making my way over to him and picking up my garment bag and purse. He grabbed my suitcase and propped open the door with his foot and elbow so I could slip out first.

"I'll hold down the fort," Alice called. I looked over my shoulder at Jasper, rolling my eyes, and he grinned, affection rolling off him in waves.

The sunshine killed my eyes as soon as I was in it and I squinted my way to the car, my vision blurring behind tears.

"What a week, huh?" Jasper said, setting down my suitcase. He patted his front pockets and then dug into them with a huff before finally finding the car keys. Holding them up triumphantly, he pressed the button to pop the trunk. "Can you believe Edward and Bella are _married_?"

I gazed at him appraisingly. "You say it like it's crazy."

I was baiting him, because I knew he _did _think it was crazy, or at least a part of him did, even if it was an increasingly shrinking part. I thought back to the other night, what he said to me after Edward and I fought at the park, and I couldn't help wondering if his speech resonated with him as much as it did me. I'd seen something in his eyes yesterday, had clearly seen the way he looked at Alice as she walked down the aisle, and his expression had exposed something that went even deeper than 'I love you.'

Jasper shot me a look and lifted my suitcase, settling it in next to a navy duffel bag that I assumed was Emmett's.

I set my garment bag down carefully, then crossed my arms and leaned against the bumper. "Listen, I saw the way you were looking at Alice last night, okay? You were practically swooning when she came down the aisle."

Jasper let out a long sigh, the corners of his mouth turning down. He lifted his sunglasses and when his eyes met mine, they were earnest and a little troubled. "I love her, Rose. I _want _to give that to her. Hell, I want it for myself, too, which is news to me."

"So why haven't you done anything about it?"

"Why else? Fear." His tone was matter-of-fact, though I could plainly see a flash of frustration in his eyes. "I don't want to fuck this up and I'm afraid…" He sighed again, scrubbing at his face. "I'm just afraid, I guess. Love makes you chicken-shit sometimes."

"It also makes you brave, Jazz," I said quietly. I could hear Alice and Emmett's voices wafting out through the open door and I nodded my head toward it.

"And when's the last time _you_ were brave?" he asked, crossing his arms.

I gave him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me?"

He shook his head. "Not this kind of brave, although what you did _was_ ballsy, Barb." He gestured absently toward me. "Metaphorically, of course. You should be proud of yourself for coming up here and getting everything straightened out, you know?"

I shrugged, kicking at the ground with my toe. In truth, both Edward and I needed to share that satisfaction, however bittersweet it was. We'd acknowledged where our friendship was now, had come to understand and accept that we weren't what we used to be. But we'd allowed ourselves to forgive one another – and, really, ourselves – for growing up. We managed to put back together what we had both had a hand in tearing apart, and while it wasn't without its dramatic moments and it certainly wasn't perfect, we'd done it together.

I looked up at him, biting at the edge of my thumbnail. "Okay, so what's your definition of brave in this situation?"

Jasper let out a long breath, tipping his head back, his mouth pursed thoughtfully. "Ah, that's the tricky part. I don't think you know exactly what it is until you're doing it."

"I think you know what yours is."

His gaze drifted back toward the door and he nodded slowly. "I do." He turned to me, his eyes wide as he laughed at his choice of phrase. I rolled my eyes with a smile. "Jesus, I'm so fucked."

"No, just in love."

'That, too. Same thing sometimes." He turned to me as he slammed the trunk shut. I winced slightly at the sound, both because it sent waves of pain through my head and because it felt final, like a door closing. He tilted his head, then pulled me into a tight hug. "Love you, kid. It wouldn't have been the same without you here. And for the record, your cabbage patch last night was breathtaking."

I pulled back and laughed, smacking him on the chest. "You totally goaded me into that!"

"Actually, I'm pretty sure it was a direct rebuttal to McCarty's lawnmower. You two, man. Peas in a pod." He shook his head, grinning down at me, and it was a softer smile than I was used to seeing from him. He placed a swift kiss on my forehead, pulling back. His voice turned low and earnest and his fingers curled around my wrist. "When the time is right for you, be brave, okay?"

I squinted up at him and my eyes teared up again, though I wasn't entirely sure it was from the sun this time. This was his roundabout way of bringing up Emmett, though he wouldn't push beyond this. I almost forgot what it was like to be around Jasper, how easy it was, how he was able to say just enough to give me something to think about without toeing into overbearing territory. I wondered if this weekend had opened his eyes the way it had mine, if his perspective had changed enough to make the leap he'd been so afraid of.

He tapped my subtly quivering chin with a small grin when I nodded slowly.

"We forgot a bag, Barb," Emmett called as he stepped out of the hotel room, shutting the door behind him. Alice was slung over his shoulder like a petite sack of potatoes, but she didn't seem to be struggling. She was probably grateful for the ride.

Jasper patted Alice's ass once Emmett reached us. "Hey now, this belongs to me."

Emmett put Alice down and she drifted right under Jasper's arm, leaning her head against his chest. I hoped Jasper _would_ be brave, that he'd realize that he and Alice weren't his parents, that their history wasn't his, and that, most importantly, theirs hadn't been written yet. They were living it, were right inside of and next to one another. If he allowed himself to let go of the fear, he'd have her permanently. In so many ways, he already did.

"I'm going to run inside and make sure the bill's squared away," I said, motioning toward the office.

They all nodded and I looked back over my shoulder a couple times as I walked away, taking them in while I could. The scene behind me was so similar to Tuesday night after the barbeque at Edward's house. The positions were the same – Emmett propped up against the bumper, his long legs stretched out in front of him, cracking jokes, Alice tucked against Jasper, her arms wrapped around his waist, all of them smiling and relaxed – but my perspective had changed so much. I felt lighter now, even as the weight of leaving them pressed down on me.

There was a woman I hadn't seen before working the front desk when I stepped inside and I was almost sad that I wouldn't be able to say goodbye to the woman I was used to. It was a little ridiculous to feel wistful about it, but this hotel had turned into my interim home and she had been a part of this journey, however small a part it was. It was strange not having her run my credit card through the ancient machine while she cheerfully tried to make small talk with me about my visit or the accommodations or even my mom. This woman was quiet, business-like, only speaking when she told me she hoped I'd enjoyed my stay and to have a safe trip home.

_Home._ The word felt a bit foreign; I felt like home was both here and in San Francisco. Both places held integral parts of my life – my job, my apartment, Garrett and Kate down in California, my friends and past and memories in Washington. This week had done so much to open my eyes, had unlocked memories and emotions and moments that I'd buried deep inside of me to forget. It had also let me see the ways in which I'd been frozen when it came to Forks and my friends, though, had opened my eyes to how they'd all changed in subtle ways, how we'd grown up. But somehow we'd grown together even as we blazed our own paths, had managed to weave the parts of us that were separate from one another with the ones that were inextricably intertwined, creating a complex but fundamental tapestry of friendship that spanned so many experiences, miles and moments. Maybe that was the key to this, the knowledge that my past and present could co-exist, that there was room for both, even if I was far away.

It didn't make it easier to walk away from here, though, or them. Especially them.

They were all waiting for me when I got back outside, clustered around one another, and I walked toward them slowly, my heart getting heavier with every step.

Maybe this was so hard, too, because I knew I'd found my way back to them and though I knew these days couldn't last, it just went so _fast_. I understood viscerally, painfully what Alice's dad was talking about yesterday. It wasn't necessarily that the older you got the faster it went, but rather that the older you got, the more you understood that real permanence didn't exist, that things began and ended, that life was cyclical and constantly changing. But change was necessary. It reminded you that you were alive and growing, even when it hurt. I knew this more now than I ever had before.

"Ready to go?" Emmett asked, standing as I reached them.

I nodded, folding up the bill and sticking it in my back pocket. "With you? Always."

He laughed wickedly, his dimples deepening. "Oh, Barb, we're going to have fun."

"Yeah, so, speaking of fun, I have something for you two to keep you busy on your journey back to civilization," Jasper said, pulling a small, bent book from his back pocket. "Consider it a gift from my heart."

Emmett snatched it out of his hand and I leaned against him, craning my neck around his arm to see what it was. The cover was all but torn off and the first few pages had definitely seen better days.

"Wow, Whitlock, what'd this set you back?" Emmett joked. "You shouldn't have."

I raised a dubious eyebrow, squinting at the title. "Mad Libs?"

Jasper frowned and reached for the book, but Emmett held it over his head. "You guys are assholes. Mad Libs are awesome and that's my favorite one. It'll keep you entertained."

"Oh, I'm sure they'd be fine without it, Jazz," Alice said, smiling at us. Emmett let out a laughing snort.

I held up my wrist to her, pointing to my watch with my middle finger. "Hey, look at the time. We really need to go, what a shame."

Jasper threw me a mock-wounded look, his hand over his heart. "You wound me, Barb. You don't sound sad at all."

I rolled my eyes but his words, even said in jest, twisted my heart. I think we all knew that this had been different, that it was special, and that wasn't easy to walk away from.

Still, I tried to infuse a bit of levity into my words when I said, "Oh, trust me, I'm devastated."

Alice's brow furrowed as she looked at us. "You guys can joke all you want, but _I _actually am."

"She always gets sensitive when she's hung over," Jasper teased, but his hand tightened around her shoulder and he brought her closer, bending down to kiss the top of her head.

"I know," Alice replied with a sigh. I could feel her eyes on me, though I couldn't see them, and I smiled sadly at her.

There was a brief moment where we all looked at one another and then my throat was constricting. This was it and these goodbyes weren't going to be as easy as last night's; I knew that already. I could see, even behind her sunglasses, that Alice was trying valiantly to hold back her tears but then one slipped below the rim and that was all it took for my eyes to spill over. Her tears had always spurred mine.

She threw her arms around my neck and I squeezed her tightly, closing my eyes to try to trap the moisture behind my eyelids. Jasper and Emmett drifted a few feet away, looking a little uncomfortable by the sudden shift in mood. It allowed us some semblance of privacy, but they were still close and I didn't want either of them to see me break down.

"I mean it about visiting," Alice said, her voice muffled against my shoulder.

I nodded, her hair tickling my cheek. "I know. I will."

She pulled back and set her sunglasses on top of her head. Her eyes were gray and watery and it reminded me of First Beach, how the sky and the water tended to blend together to make it look like one infinitely long stretch of space.

"I'm proud of you, Rose. I'm so glad you were here."

I nodded again, taking a deep breath as I tried to surreptitiously wipe away my tears. My lungs contracted, making my words choppy and choked. "Love you."

"Love you, too," she replied, squeezing my hand. "Will you let me know you got home okay?"

I thought of the small and tidy studio apartment that waited for me in San Francisco. I almost couldn't remember what it looked like. What would it _feel _like? "Of course."

Jasper sidled up to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, whispering in my ear. "Remember what I said, Rose."

I squeezed him tightly, then pulled away, giving him a stern look. "You, too."

He held out his pinky to me and I grasped it with my own, laughing thickly.

Jasper turned to Emmett, who was standing next to Alice now. He held out his fist to him and Emmett bumped it lightly. "Hoops this week?"

"Dude, I'm thinking happy hour after the emails I read this morning," Emmett replied, rubbing at his jaw. I could hear the roughness of his stubble against his skin and all I could think was, _four hours, four hours, four hours_. _240 more minutes before I have to say goodbye to him. _But it was also 240 minutes alone and uninterrupted. The anticipation – the high of knowing I'd have him to myself and the knowledge that he'd be the last one I would say goodbye to before I stepped on the plane – pulsed through me like an extra heartbeat.

Jasper shrugged. "Hoops, happy hour, they both start with 'h.' I'm not picky."

Emmett laughed and they shared a quick hug, clapping one another on the back. Alice blew me a kiss from around Jasper's arm, smiling with sad eyes.

"You mind driving?" I asked Emmett. My eyes were still watering and I didn't trust myself behind the wheel.

He flashed me a grin, though his eyes lingered on mine appraisingly. "It's been my dream to get behind the wheel of this bad boy since I saw it. How did you know?"

"Oh, you know, the longing looks, the lingering touches," I teased with a shrug, tossing him the keys. "It's pretty obvious."

He caught them and we moved around one another, his hand finding my hip briefly as he made his way to the driver's side. He stopped, smiling at me over the top of the car, and shook his head. "_That's_ obvious, huh?"

I frowned at him, trying to decipher his meaning, but he just laughed again, dimples flashing, all secretly amused in the way that drove me crazy.

"Drive safe, please," Alice called, standing on her tiptoes, her hand outstretched toward us.

"Miss you already," Jasper added, his tone teasing and amused.

I slid into the passenger seat and buckled my seat belt, waving at Alice and Jasper, my fingers fluttering against the cool glass of the window. Emmett climbed in and he was all legs, so it took him a minute to adjust the seat to accommodate his body. His smell – always soap and cinnamon – wafted through the car and it soothed me because at least I still had him right now. I wasn't doing this alone.

He started the engine and let out two short honks that echoed around the parking lot. Jasper and Alice waved back, leaning against one another while we backed out of the parking space. I could feel the tears clogging my throat again, could feel my bottom lip begin to quiver, and I pulled it into my mouth, capturing it between my teeth so it wouldn't give me away.

"Hey, at least you won't have to sleep on the jizz blanket anymore," Emmett quipped. I laughed and it was genuine but it still sounded choked, even to me. I wondered if he was regretting his decision to ride with me given that I was making him drive _and _was an emotional mess.

I looked straight ahead, putting all my effort into breathing evenly and keeping the tears at bay so I wouldn't completely freak him out.

We slowly rolled away and I didn't turn around. Instead, I watched from the side mirror as we left Alice and Jasper behind. They got smaller and smaller until we turned out of the driveway, until finally they were gone, and so were we.

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**A/N: I know I promised that this chapter would be up faster than the last and I obviously didn't make that deadline, so I apologize for that. This chapter had to get cut into two because I _really _like words, apparently, so the good news is that I'm already halfway through the next chapter. **

**Hmonster4 helps make it pretty and LightStarDusting tells me it's okay. Thanks to both of them for their help/support/whip cracking, etc. **

**A couple of quick housekeeping things: hmonster and I have been working on Down & Across, which you can find in my stories or hers here or on ADF if you're looking for a breezy summer read. We've been updating every day and it's almost complete. Also, I've put myself up for auction for Fandom Gives Back (auction board opens up June 25th). I'm offering up an outtake for this story, so keep an eye out for that if you're interested.  
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**Thanks as always to you all for being so good to me and my story. Next chapter _will _(WILL!) be up sooner than this one. I love road trips, don't you? :) **

**See you soon!  
**


	18. Ch 17: Home

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

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Emmett and I were quiet as we drove down South Forks Avenue. I turned my head toward the window so he couldn't see my tears, which was stupid because I knew he knew I was crying. I tried not to make any noise, but my sniffling nose wasn't cooperating and I couldn't soak the moisture into the neckline of my shirt quite fast enough. I felt warmth and light pressure against my hand and I moved my head fractionally, looking down out of the corner of my eye to see his hand there. My fingers curled around his and I turned back to the window, a few tears running down my cheeks in quick succession.

I absently took everything in as we drove away, working to control my emotions and running nose. The diner and the grocery store passed by, along with Newton's Outfitters, where I worked for two weeks the summer after senior year. I'd quit dramatically because Mrs. Newton wouldn't let me leave early so I could catch the last few good hours of sunbathing time with Alice. The gas station came next, the place we'd go for Icees or post-party snacks, where I once managed to talk a guy hauling lumber into buying Alice and me cigarettes when we were sixteen. We'd smoked half the pack in the woods behind Alice's house, puckering our lips in an attempt to make smoke rings. We spent the rest of that weekend with both head- and stomachaches, learning the hard way that too much of a bad thing is a _really _bad thing. I'd stayed away from nicotine after that.

I smiled at the thought, wiping at my tears. There were little memories tucked into every corner of this town, moments that would always live here, even though I no longer did.

_Bye, Forks_, I thought. I watched the town's sign pass by, pressing my fingers against the window. This moment reminded me so much of leaving for college, knowing that I was leaving more than this town behind. I was leaving my friends and my home, my parents and the comfort that all of those things had afforded me. I felt eighteen again for a moment, sad and scared and nostalgic, but also excited by the possibility of what lay ahead of me.

And maybe also by who sat next to me.

I felt a gentle squeeze and then the warmth of Emmett's hand was gone. "You know, I'm going to start getting insulted if you keep crying, Hale."

"I'm not crying," I said gruffly, wiping at my wet cheeks before turning to give him a petulant look. "The sun's in my eyes."

His eyebrow peeked up above the rim of his sunglasses. He didn't look convinced. "Uh huh."

I didn't know why I was lying. It was obvious that the sun had very little to do with the state of my face, but he didn't press me as I rifled in my purse, searching for my sunglasses. I found them and slipped them on, then turned to him. "See? No more tears."

"Good," he replied, his mouth twitching. "I would've had to resort to desperate measures otherwise."

"Like?"

"You know I have a pretty kick-ass supply of blonde jokes in my arsenal. That could keep me entertained for hours."

"_You_ know what happens when you make me listen to your blonde jokes, right?"

He looked over and I imagined him blinking innocently behind his sunglasses. His smile, on the other hand, was downright impish. "Yes, but the irritation would distract from the crying, and I'd rather have an annoyed Rose than a crying Rose."

I raised an eyebrow, stuffing my sunglasses case back in my purse. "It's your funeral." I tossed my purse into the back seat, almost squishing a white paper bag that was sitting there. I grabbed it, holding it up questioningly. "What's this?"

"Oh, donuts!" His voice went up an octave, like he'd forgotten they were there. I smiled at the look of pure joy on his face as I pulled out a donut and handed it to him. "It was the only hangover option since there's no McDonald's."

"Which is a crime, by the way," I said, pulling a chunk off a flattened glazed donut at the bottom of the bag. "Grease is one of the five food groups as far as hung over Rosalie is concerned."

"You're a woman after my own heart," he said, chewing. I looked at him quickly, my heart stopping at his words, but his eyes were trained on the road. He glanced over at me and grinned, his dimples deep and gorgeous and if my heart could have fallen over dead, I think it would've. "By the way, I have some news."

"News?" I croaked out.

He nodded, waving his donut in my direction. "I was checking my work email this morning to prep myself for the shit storm I'll probably walk into tomorrow, and there was an email from my boss. It looks like they need me to come down to the San Francisco office next month."

It took me a few seconds for what he was saying to sink in, but when it did, my heart started beating wildly. He would be in my city in a month; having a time line attached to when I'd see him again somehow melted away some of the tension that had settled in my chest. "You're going to be in San Francisco?"

"Yeah," he said, laughter edging his voice. "Do you think you can fit in a little quality time with me?"

I affected a neutral tone, running my palms over my jeans. "I'll try and shift around my very busy schedule."

The smile on his face widened. "Oh, you'll _try_?"

"I guess it's the least I could do since you're coming down there for 'business.'" My voice was dripping with sarcasm as my fingers curled into air quotes.

"Do you doubt me, Barb?" he asked, feigning indignation.

"I just think it's a little convenient that Boeing _happens _to have offices in San Francisco, where I _happen _to live."

He laughed, shaking his head. "Okay, you caught me. It's all a front to spend more time with you."

"All you have to do is ask, McCarty."

"Isn't that what I'm doing?"

"More or less." I pulled off another piece of donut, popping it in my mouth. "How long do I have you for?"

Something flickered across his face and he looked quickly at me before focusing back on the road. "I'll probably just do an overnighter. I'm going down for an all-day meeting."

"They're flying you down for one meeting?" I raised an eyebrow teasingly. "What kind of big deal are _you_?"

He waved me off. "Trust me, I'm not a big deal. They're just grooming me for a promotion. They want to see if I can handle the extra responsibility before they give it to me."

"You can handle it," I said, knowing he could. I was fairly certain he could handle anything.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." He gave me a winning smile, then stuffed the rest of the donut in his mouth with a satisfied hum.

I looked at him, letting my eyes wander over his face thoughtfully. I found myself wondering what his days looked like and what his schedule was. I wondered if he got coffee every day, if there was a corner store near his apartment that he went to for milk and fruit, if he knew all the people in his apartment building. I tried to imagine him at work sitting in his office, what that looked like. I thought about his childhood, what little I'd learned over the years, about what it must have been like to move from Tennessee when he was young and then again when he was in high school, and how that might have shaped him.

I only knew pieces of him, most of which were gathered during high school and our subsequent moments together in college and after. I knew him in terms of Forks, what he meant to me there, how he fit into our group of friends. I knew how he made me feel, how he'd always been there, this smart, funny, gorgeous possibility, but there were so many holes in his history for me, so many small things that I wanted to know now, that I felt like I _needed _to know. There was so much to discover, so many stories and memories that I wasn't aware of.

We kept up a steady stream of conversation as we made our way down the highway, tall trees blurring past us on either side. It was easy being like this with him, so easy, and I forgot for a little while why we were here, where we were going.

We got to the outskirts of Port Angeles surprisingly fast. I wasn't sure if it was Emmett's driving or his company that was making the miles fly. I wanted to spread our time out, to make it linger, and as we passed by the sign announcing that we were in Port Angeles' city limits, I looked over at Emmett, who was just finishing a story about the time he hit a line drive right into his coach's crotch and how he'd had to ask his dad later what a eunuch was after his coach screamed for ten straight minutes that he'd become one.

"Did that happen here?" I asked, nodding out the window.

"Yep. It happened at the park by my old house." He laughed, shaking his head. "Coach never forgave me either. I'm still not positive I didn't actually castrate him."

I laughed and then glanced at the clock, gauging how much time it would take us from here. When I looked back at him, he had a small grin on his face, like he had an old film reel rolling through his mind, and even his dimples were soft.

"Will you show me where you lived?" I asked.

Emmett looked at me, blinking, surprised. "Really?"

"Yeah, I want to see where you grew up." His chin dipped down slightly and I could tell he was looking at the clock. "We have time."

It only took a few minutes to get from the freeway exit to a quaint neighborhood lined with tall, lushly canopied trees and modest one- and two-story houses. Emmett gave me the brief run-down on points of interest on the way – the park where his coach was allegedly de-nutted, the library where he and his friends pretended to skateboard to impress girls, the bushes where he dumped all of the newspapers from his paper route when he was ten because he wanted to go back to sleep.

"You must have been such a little shit," I said with a laugh, secretly enchanted by the picture he was painting. I was hanging onto every word he said, every part of himself he revealed.

"Excuse me, I was puckish," he replied quickly, turning a corner and immediately pulling up to the curb. He put the car in park, turning off the ignition.

"Same thing." I looked out the window at the modest two-story blue house in front of us. There was a sprawling front yard with perfectly manicured grass and stout, leafy bushes surrounding the perimeter of the small front porch. It looked warm and cozy and I could just imagine him out here, playing catch or tag. "Is this it?"

"This is it."

I looked over my shoulder at him and he smiled, resting his arms on the steering wheel as he peered past me to the house.

"Are you going to give me a car-side tour?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. He chuckled and scooted a little closer, ducking down to look out the window more closely. I watched his eyes scan the scene outside.

"Well, let's see. I used to pick my mom flowers from Mrs. Jenks' rose bushes over there, which she loved," he said, throwing me a smile. I grinned and leaned back as his arm extended to point at a huge, gnarled tree sitting between the two properties. "Fell out of that tree there about thirty times. I have a few nice scars from that. My friends and I used to play football and street hockey out in the middle of the road. I had my first kiss…" His arm moved closer to me and I wrapped my hand around his wrist. He was leaning closer, so close that I could feel his breath against my hair. I followed the path of his finger to another tree a couple houses down. "Right there."

"How old were you?" I asked, voice low, my eyes still glued to the tree. The mood had changed quickly and I was afraid to look at him, to breathe.

"Twelve. Her name was Victoria. She hit me afterward, then kissed me again." His laugh reverberated in the air, against my skin, and it was stupid, but I was jealous of this little twelve-year-old girl, that she knew him then and got to be such a permanent memory to him.

His arm lowered to the door handle and I was pinned against him, though he wasn't holding me down. He had to know what he did to me, had to understand that his closeness affected me in a way that wasn't normal. My hands went to my lap and I intertwined my fingers so I wouldn't touch him like I wanted to.

"Well, I hope it was worth the pain," I said, swallowing down the nerves that kept creeping up my throat.

"It usually is."

The tenor of his voice set goose bumps up and down my spine. I looked over at him. He was watching me, his chin tucked against his curved-in shoulder, his eyes serious, and I knew he felt this. I knew that whatever I'd been taken under for the past five days – maybe even longer – had taken him, too, and that scared me more than not knowing where I stood with him. I couldn't deny that this was more now, but I had no idea what to do with it.

I wanted to take a chance on him, but it was too soon, too soon, and Jesus, I was scared. I was scared of him and what he could do to me, how he could turn everything upside down if I let myself be vulnerable to him.

I turned back toward the window, my heart in my throat, and breathed deliberately, trying to get my body back in my control.

"Was it hard for you to move away from Tennessee?" I asked when I could find my voice again.

There was silence for a moment and I could hear the steady rhythm of his breath. "Yeah, I guess. I don't remember it that clearly anymore. But I made friends pretty quickly -"

"Shocking," I interrupted.

I could hear the smile in his voice as he continued. "And I had my parents. That's all an eight-year-old needs, you know?"

"But you missed the rest of your family, I'm sure." I turned to him, curious.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I did. I still do, but it's less now, or different. After my nana died, it wasn't really the same. She made everything happen, got all of the McCarty clan rounded up for holidays and birthdays and summer picnics. We don't do stuff like that much anymore."

He smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. I remembered seeing him in the hallway at school after he came back from her funeral in Tennessee. I'd walked up to him and wrapped my arms around him because he just looked so _lost_. It was the first time we'd really had any bodily contact beyond flirtatious touches, and he'd leaned into me with a sigh. I felt the sadness rolling off of him, had seen the moisture in his eyes just before he'd turned away and strode down the hall to his next class. I'd wanted to make it better for him then, and I felt that same deep-seated urge now.

"She made these insanely delicious pies," he continued, looking over at me almost hesitantly. "Like the best you've ever had in your life. She always made them when we all got together and I'd just sit there in the kitchen and watch her make the crust and slice the fruit. She told me once that she only made them when she was really happy." His gaze got distant and moved to a point beyond my shoulder. I could tell he was remembering, too, so I put my hand on top of his. He looked down, turned his hand over so that our palms and fingers were flush and lightly pressed together. "She was always making those pies."

My heart twisted at the look on his face. As happy as childhood could be – and his obviously had been – it was always a little painful looking back on it, seeing how things had changed, recognizing that there were things you would never get back no matter how you ached for it. That pain was in his eyes right now, even with the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth.

He shook his head as if he was shaking off the memories, and exhaled. "Anyway, I have family here, too. I've got a really good life here. Alice and Bella go all maternal and nag me about shit all the time, and I've got Whitlock and Cullen, my brothers." He looked up, one side of his mouth quirking high. The disparity between his dimples – one deep, one just a tiny indentation – was dizzyingly attractive. "And you…"

"And me?"

I felt the path of his eyes as they traced the curves of my face and I held my breath, waiting. "You're like…I don't know, my third cousin by marriage that I have an inappropriate crush on."

My laugh, loud and sudden, surprised me and I clapped my hand over my mouth when a snort escaped. He did, too, his eyes crinkling adorably, and just like that the mood lightened.

"Too far?" he asked.

"One step away from _Deliverance_."

He laughed again, deep and rich, and it filled the car, surrounded me. God, I loved that sound. "I have to live up to the stereotype somehow." He turned the ignition and the engine purred back to life. "All right, this was a nice little diversion, but we should get back on the road."

"Thanks for showing this to me," I said, squeezing his hand.

He smiled, his thumb sweeping over my skin, before he placed his hands steering wheel. "Thanks for wanting to see it."

An hour later, we were talking about our childhood crushes (Alyssa Milano for him, Jonathan Taylor Thomas for me) when he shifted in his seat. _Again. _He'd been doing it for the past thirty miles, squirming around, rolling his neck and hunching his shoulders. I could feel the repressed energy emanating from his body.

"What's your deal?" I interrupted his soliloquy on Alyssa's impressive acting skills, which was a quite obvious euphemism for her boobs, pinching his arm. "Are you itching to get away from me or something?"

He looked at me, surprised. "No, I just kind of hate road trips. This car is really damn small, by the way. I don't think it's used to so much man." I snorted, my eyes trailing down the length of his body at their own volition. When I made it back up to his face, his focus was back on the road, but he was grinning.

"You just need an activity." I stretched my arm back to the backseat, grabbing the Mad Libs book. "That'll make it bearable."

His eyes met mine when I straightened back up. "You already are."

"Very smooth, Mr. McCarty," I said dryly, though my heart reacted instinctively like it always did with him, its beat a little faster.

He shrugged, throwing me a self-effacing smile.

"Okay, so Mad Libs?" I held up the book, waving my hand in front of it with a Vanna White smile. "Or…" I trailed off thoughtfully, biting at my thumbnail. He was looking sideways at me, waiting for a stroke of genius to hit me; with my eyes lingering on his face, it did. My smile turned mischievous. "Or truth or dare?"

"Truth or dare," he said immediately. "No contest."

I set the Mad Libs down on the center console and folded my hands in my lap with a flourish. "Excellent choice. You first."

"Okay, truth or dare?"

"Dare," I said, then added teasingly, "No contest."

"Shocking," he shot back.

I grinned, leaning back in my seat. "Make it good."

"Being in a moving car gets rid of a lot of viable options."

I couldn't ignore the way he said it, the words weighted down with innuendo, and my stomach dipped. "Like?"

He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel rhythmically, a smug look on his face. "Not telling."

"What! Why?"

"Because I'm thinking of a dare you _can _do, so be quiet for a second." His eyes darted from my face to the road several times and I started humming the theme song from _Jeopardy_. His head snapped back to me and he raised an eyebrow. "In a singing mood, are you, Barb?"

My eyes widened and then narrowed. "Emmett, _no_."

"I think you want to sing," he said. "I think you want me to turn on the radio and find a song for you to sing me while I'm driving you all the way to Seattle."

"Hey, you asked _me _for a ride," I reminded him.

"Yeah, for a _ride_, not a _drive_, Miss Daisy."

I rolled my eyes. "Can't I just do something else?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know, Chinese fire drill?"

"Sorry, this is non-negotiable." He hit the power button on the radio and began scanning the stations, looking for a song that would properly humiliate me. He passed by the station that was supposed to play recent hits, but was always consistently ten years behind the times. Or in this case, over twenty. I heard the familiar intro and closed my eyes, praying he hadn't recognized it.

"Holy shit!" he bellowed, doubling back. He was practically bouncing in his seat, the bastard.

"_No_." I reached for the radio, but he slapped my hand away.

"_Yes_. Barb, this is a sign."

"I don't know the words."

He gave a disbelieving snort. "Bullshit. Everyone knows the words to "Sweet Child o' Mine." Even _I _know the words to "Sweet Child o' Mine" and I'm a lyrics black hole."

"I'm not singing that," I stated, crossing my arms.

He looked at me, pulling his sunglasses down his nose with his index finger, and I could plainly see the spark of challenge in his eyes. "Are you backing out on your dare?"

I clenched my jaw, staring straight ahead. He knew exactly what he was doing and I refused to fall for it. "Reverse psychology doesn't work on me, McCarty."

He held up his hand. "Don't project, Rose. Let's call a spade a spade: you're admitting defeat."

My eyes rolled into the back of my head and came back around again to level a belligerent glare at him.

"Quitter." He said it slowly and I couldn't help looking down at his mouth and how it formed around the word, even as I was silently cursing him for talking me into this. His lips were full and red, pulled up into a smirk, and the tip of his tongue pressed against the top of his teeth briefly.

"Oh, my god, _fine_!" I exclaimed. Emmett smiled, dimples and all, and it went straight to my heart and belly. Apparently, I'd do anything to see that look directed at me, making an ass out of myself singing Guns N' Roses included.

"Victory!" he crowed, reaching over to turn up the volume.

I gave him another look that would wither a lesser man, but he simply upped the wattage of his grin and waved his hand at me, pointing to the radio.

I started droning out the lyrics in a monotone voice, because he certainly didn't specify a required level of enthusiasm. He shot me several disapproving looks, but I studiously ignored them, inspecting my nails instead.

"Are you kidding me, you slacker?" he finally shouted over the music. "You can do better than that."

I picked at a cuticle pointedly. "You're lucky that I'm doing it at all. I wouldn't do this for anyone else."

"Keep singing," he commanded. "You're doing this because you can't turn down a dare, not because it's me. Nice try."

"And because of your reverse psychology," I muttered to myself.

"What was that?"

"Sorry, I'm _singing_," I said sarcastically.

I started again with an all-suffering sigh, and Emmett, seeing that I wasn't going to cooperate, started singing with me in an ear-splitting falsetto, drumming out the beat on the steering wheel. I couldn't help getting into it as we took turns with the chorus, the earnest furrow of his brow sending me into spasms of laughter. He started laughing, too, and it just spurred mine further until we were both silent and gasping. I hadn't seen him laugh so hard since Jasper ran into a closed sliding glass door in college and I wondered if we were going to have to pull over, but he reined it in, carrying us home on the last note.

When the song was over, he gave two quick blasts of the horn and turned the radio off. He looked at me, grinning while I wiped at the tears in my eyes.

"See? Now wasn't that fun?"

"For _you_," I said, my voice thick with laughter. I tried to imagine what we looked like – completely ridiculous, surely – and I shook my head. "It was more on the humiliating spectrum for me, which you seemed to enjoy even more than my show."

"I wasn't trying to humiliate you, Rose," he laughed, reaching over to squeeze my knee. "It was a lesson in learning to loosen up a bit."

"Um, hello, what would you call last night?"

"Um, _hello_," he retorted mockingly, "extreme drunkenness."

"So see? I'm loose when I'm drunk."

Emmett inhaled sharply as I realized what I'd just said and then he was guffawing, hitting the steering wheel with his hand.

"Oh, Jesus, you know what I mean!" I yelled over the echo of his laughter. He let out a gleeful cackle and I huffed, "You're a dick."

"You're too easy." He started laughing again like an adolescent boy, which he'd apparently turned into. "And loose."

"Yuk it up, but it's your turn and payback's a bitch, bitch." I turned in my seat so that my back was pressed against the door and I was facing him as much as my seat belt would allow. "Truth or dare?"

He looked sideways at me, a big goofy grin still plastered across his face, and with an exaggerated waggle of his eyebrows he intoned, "Truth." It was my turn to cackle and I rubbed my hands together, thinking of ways I could pay him back for his stunt. He looked at me again and frowned. "Wait, dare. I want dare."

"Ooh, sorry, too late," I sang out as I gazed at him appraisingly, twisting a strand of hair around my finger absently while I considered my options.

"Any day, sweetheart," he said. I could tell he was nervous; he kept looking over at me and his fingers were dancing along the steering wheel. I smiled widely. "I don't like that look. Did I mention I wanted to switch to dare?"

"Loosen up, McCarty," I taunted.

"Spit it out, Hale," he shot back.

"Please, I'm going to revel in torturing you. You're my captive audience."

The words sounded familiar as soon as I said them and I heard Alice's voice in my head. She'd said those same words to me right before she'd cornered me about Emmett. Remembering the conversation, the way I'd blurted out the truth because I'd been caught so off-guard, I looked over at Emmett, wondering if I'd have the same success that Alice had. He'd been so evasive about his love life, which of course only added fuel to the fire. It was a fire that had been simmering, but if ever there was an opportunity to somehow eke information out of him, now was the time.

"Okay, truth: why did you and Tanya break up?"

Emmett balked, looking over at me. "What the –? That was out of left field."

I shrugged. "It's a valid question."

"That I'm not going to answer," he replied in a matter-of-fact tone that made me want to reach across the seat and strangle him. "Ask me something else."

My mouth dropped open and I snorted indignantly. "No way, you have to answer it."

"I don't _have_ to," he argued.

"Listen, I sang Guns N' Roses for you. You can answer an innocent little question."

"It's not an innocent -" he broke off, flustered, and I could see a flush rising from the neckline of his shirt. "Just give me a pass, okay? Ask me something else."

"Fine." If he wasn't going to answer that question, I wasn't sure how I thought he'd answer this one, but I pressed on regardless. "What did you and Edward talk about the other night at the park?"

He threw me an incredulous look, his hands going tight around the steering wheel. "Holy shit, Hale, _pass_."

I threw up my hands, stupidly surprised that he refused to tell me. "_Why_?"

"Because…" he trailed off, shaking his head. "Because."

"So, you're not going to answer _any_ of my questions?"

He snorted. "Not those."

"Don't you think I deserve to know what you and Edward talked about, particularly since it obviously involved me?"

"This isn't the time or the place for that conversation, Rosalie."

"_Is _there a time and place for that conversation?" I asked, and suddenly it wasn't a game anymore. It was my life. It was a clue, a moment that he refused to reveal to me for reasons I couldn't even begin to guess at. Only he could provide clarity, and he wouldn't do it.

"I don't know." His voice was sharp, almost accusatory, and I frowned at him. I wasn't sure how our light game of truth or dare had suddenly turned into this standoff, but the air circulating between us was thick with tension. He caught my eye and the tight set of his mouth slackened slightly. He let out a breath, running his hand along the back of his neck, and when he spoke again, his tone was more neutral. "Let's just move on, Barb. Next question."

My frustration and confusion ebbed into something else as I looked over at him, eroding into something a little softer. I knew I was scared, but for the first time I realized, watching as his jaw muscles flexed rhythmically, that it was entirely possible he was, too. I just didn't understand _why_.

"Well, gosh, I don't know, is there anything you _can _tell me?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. I forced my tone into lighter territory, hoping he'd catch on.

He pursed his lips thoughtfully for a minute before one side of his mouth drew up. "My dad got me a stuffed animal when I was little, this little grizzly bear. He and my grandpa and uncles used to go hunting up in the mountains, you know, and I'd get so pissed because I couldn't go, so he bought it for me one day to get me to shut up." He looked over at me, grinning full stop, and I breathed out, silently relieved. "I was five, mind you. Anyway, I carried that thing around with me everywhere. I ate with it, slept with it. I think I even took baths with it. Named it Emmett."

"You named your bear after yourself?" I interrupted with a laugh.

"Sure, why not?" He shrugged, though his smile turned a little mischievous. I couldn't imagine the damage that smile had done on his parents when he was little, the things he'd gotten away with just by flashing his dimples. "Emmett and I were inseparable for a long time, and even after I got past the point of playing with toys, I still slept with it sometimes. But when I turned thirteen, I started feeling like a pussy for having it, you know? Like, what respectable teenage boy has a stuffed animal? One day, my buddies were coming over to my house and I don't know, I just panicked about the damn bear, so I threw him in the trash in the kitchen before they came over. By the time I remembered what I'd done, it was the next morning and my dad had already taken out the trash."

"Oh, no," I murmured, suddenly sensing that this story wouldn't have a happy ending.

"Oh, yes. Even worse? I got outside and saw that the garbage truck had already made its rounds." He shook his head, chuckling to himself. "I probably sat out on that curb and cried for an hour, just fucking heartbroken."

"Jesus, Emmett, that's _terrible_," I said, imagining a thirteen-year-old him with his head in his hands, distraught over the loss of his childhood friend.

"Yeah, it was, but Emmett the grizzly lives on in my memory," he replied. We were quiet for a moment before he looked over at me. "So in answer to your question, yes, there is something I can tell you. I haven't ever told anyone about losing Emmett."

"I'm honored." I paused. "I think."

"You should be," he said with a grin.

"Okay, well, I think truth or dare is over." I picked up the book that was sitting between us on the center console. "Can I interest you in a game of Mad Libs?"

He eyed me, then looked back at the road. "You're on. Whoever's dirtiest wins?"

I flipped through the book, half of which was already filled out in Jasper's serial killer scrawl. "Yeah, I think Alice and Jasper are going to win that bet."

Emmett blinked and then wrinkled his nose. "I don't want to know."

"No," I replied, flipping to an empty page. "You don't."

We spent the next couple hours trying to out-dirty one another, which Emmett won thanks to his impressive cache of obscure and spectacularly filthy adjectives. We got to Tacoma too quickly and then passed through Federal Way. By the time we started seeing the airport signs, the book was in my lap and I'd gone quiet, my heart beating fast. Emmett got quiet, too, and I could feel his eyes on me every few minutes. I turned the radio on and the music filled the silence between us; it was a fast song with a perky beat that didn't fit the mood. I didn't want to have to talk about the ache that was starting to spread down from my heart and chest into my stomach, though, so my hands stayed folded in my lap while the music continued to play.

The closer we got, the heavier my body got. I wanted to go home and I didn't. I wanted to take a shower with decent water pressure and use my own shampoo and soap. But I also wanted Alice to be there when I got out, curled up on the couch watching TV. I wanted to crawl into my own bed, nestle down into soft cotton sheets instead of slightly scratchy ones of indeterminate material. But I also wanted Emmett to knock on my door in the morning with coffee and pastries. I wanted to thread them all into my life in a more tangible way than phone calls and emails. I didn't want to forget the exact cadence of Edward's laugh or how Jasper smiled with equal parts mischief and affection when he called me Barb.

I wanted it all, but I knew I couldn't have it. No matter what, there would always be a sacrifice, something I had to give up. There would always be a goodbye.

We got to the airport too quickly and dropped off the rental car, then made our way to the main terminal where Southwest was located. Emmett was next to me the whole way, putting his hand on the small of my back to guide me, and I resisted the urge to grab his hand at least a dozen times, because it would just hurt to have to let it go when I left.

The skycap's line stretched at least a dozen people deep. Emmett stood just behind me, guessing the destinations of the travelers in front of us, his breath tickling my hair. His stories got more elaborate and ridiculous the longer we waited and at one point, the woman in front of us, decked out in various shades of taupe, turned to frown at our barely contained laughter. Emmett sent her to Boring, Oregon.

I knew he was distracting me, but I let him. I didn't want to be sad yet. I didn't want to think about saying goodbye to him and going home to a dark apartment that would probably feel a little unfamiliar, like it didn't quite fit.

After I checked in and got my boarding pass, Emmett walked with me to a less traffic-heavy spot, right near the automatic doors that would take me home. He stopped and pulled off his sunglasses. I turned toward him, my mouth opening to say something, but he pulled me by the elbow until I was pressed against him. I clutched my garment bag awkwardly, wrapped my free arm around his waist. My cheek pressed against his chest and I inhaled, smelling laundry detergent, cinnamon, soap. Him. His hold on me tightened slightly and he curled over me until his mouth was against my ear.

"We'll talk soon, okay?" he murmured. His breath tickled my hair and my ear and a shiver ran down the back of my neck.

"More than once every three weeks?" I teased, but inside I was desperate, my fingers aching to curl into the fabric of his shirt to hold him here, to keep me anchored. I pressed them flat against his back instead.

I felt him nod, the scruff on his jaw rubbing against my temple. A quick laugh vibrated in his chest and against mine. "Try to keep me away, Barb. I'll keep you updated on my trip, too. Sometimes these meetings get shuffled around a few times."

"Okay."

I closed my eyes, shutting everything out but the way he felt, the way I felt enveloped in his arms. My throat was starting to clog and I could feel tears forming behind my eyelids because I knew I needed to go and I wasn't ready yet.

"Hey." His voice was quiet but it moved through me, pushed my chin up until I was looking into his eyes. "I know you're going to miss me, but this crying thing is a serious bummer."

I pulled away from him, ducking my head. "I'm not crying."

"You're turning into such a girl," he continued, ignoring my lie, and wiped a traitorous tear that snuck down my cheek with his thumb.

I snorted and then sniffled, pressing my finger against my nose. "Whatever, you cried over a stuffed animal."

He tapped my temple with a frown. "Hey, I told you about Emmett in confidence. Keep that one in the vault, okay?"

"No promises," I replied, though secretly I reveled in it being another thing that was just ours.

He tsked. "After everything I've done for you."

"You _have_ done a lot for me." I matched his light tone but secretly I wondered if he understood what he'd done for me – god, _to _me – this week, how he kept me grounded during the hardest times and set me completely off-balance during the rest.

"Like?"

I shrugged, looking down as I knocked the toe of my shoe against his teasingly. "Oh, I don't know. You gave me some new pick-up lines. You discovered my dessert pocket, which apparently is a big deal. You taught me some new moves on the dance floor."

"So really, I changed your life," he said, his voice teasing, too.

I rolled my eyes, but when I looked back up at him and saw him smiling down at me, I understood that he really could.

"I guess I should go," I said reluctantly, looking down at my watch. My heart was beating heavily in protest.

He nodded and waved his arm at me, his other hand stuffed in his pocket. "Go on, get out of here. Have a safe flight." He stepped back and I resisted the urge to step with him, to keep him close. "Let me know as soon as you get home, okay?"

I nodded silently, pushing my sunglasses further up the bridge of my nose. We stood there for a second, just looking at one another. I couldn't move, I didn't want to, but he set me in motion when he reached over to cup my face. It was brief, just a brush of his skin against mine, but it ignited me. I had to get out of there before I couldn't. I was just making this harder on myself, and maybe him, too, because the way he was looking at me was secretly sad, even as he was flashing me white teeth and dimples.

"Bye, McCarty," I choked out, throwing him a grin that was probably closer to a grimace.

"See you soon, Hale," he replied. "Next month, you and me."

I managed another smile and it was a little easier this time, remembering that it wouldn't be another year before I saw him. "It's a date."

I turned on my heel and walked away, crossed the threshold into the airport, the automatic doors quietly closing behind me. I didn't look back, but the pain that was centralized somewhere in my chest was radiating outward, spreading like hot fire through me. I stopped, exhaling sharply, and then I did what I knew I shouldn't.

I looked over my shoulder.

He was still standing outside, his hands stuffed in his pockets and I was walking back toward him before my feet had given the memo to my brain. The doors opened in anticipation of my exit and I stepped back outside, accidentally shoulder-checking a woman that was coming inside. I murmured an apology absently, but I wasn't really paying attention. My eyes were on him. He was facing the street, probably looking for a cab, and I couldn't look away.

"Emmett," I called.

He looked over his shoulder and then did a double take. I pushed my sunglasses on top of my head.

"Rose?" His voice was questioning, carrying across the sidewalk. People were walking between us, oblivious. I opened my mouth and then closed it, looking down at the ground. When I looked back up, he was standing right in front of me and his eyes locked onto mine, confused. "Did you forget something?"

"Yes."

God, I knew this was going to hurt. This wouldn't make it any easier to walk away from him, but I didn't have any more words for him.

The hand that wasn't clutching my garment bag found its way to the back of his neck and I stood on my tiptoes. I kept my eyes on him as I moved closer and he was so clear to me – the freckles dotting his nose, the stubble peppering his jaw, the slight flare of his nostrils as my mouth moved toward his, pressed against it. His bottom lip, full and so warm, fit between mine like it was always meant to go there, like it was just waiting for me to figure that out.

Emmett froze, but it was only a split second, and then my fingers were curling into his hair and skin and the warmth of his sigh fanned over our mouths that were tentatively molded together. His hand found my hip and I felt my shirt go taut, the fabric bunched in his fingers.

It only lasted a few seconds, this kiss, but everything disappeared. Time didn't exist for me right then, not distance or fear or longing, not this airport or the people around us that were probably staring. It was just him and me. The possibility of this being more was thick between us.

I pulled away, my heart beating a frantic rhythm against my ribs. My fingers swept along the exposed skin of his neck as I dropped my hand and I could feel his heart pounding, could hear the hitch in his breath when I put more distance between our bodies. He didn't say anything, and I couldn't speak or breathe or even look at him, too afraid for what came next.

But then I felt a finger underneath my chin, guiding me up until I was looking into Emmett's eyes.

"What was that?" he asked. He was kind of smiling, but his eyebrows were knitted together in confusion. His hand wrapped around my wrist, holding me there. It kept me from fleeing, which I had a strong urge to do suddenly because this was too much. I internally cursed myself for not having the willpower to walk away from him the first time.

"I forgot to say thank you," I managed to get out. His fingers pressed lightly into my wrist and I was sure he could feel my pulse flying underneath the thin shield of my skin.

His eyes widened slightly and his head tilted. There was a brief flash of dimple. "_That's_ you saying thank you?"

"Yeah. Yes." I swallowed and shrugged and looked around. I did anything to avoid his eyes. With my free hand – the one that wasn't lightly shackled in his grip – I pulled down my sunglasses. "Okay, I think I…I really need to go now. Let's try this again."

His arm snaked around my waist and he pulled me close. I could hear the edge of laughter in his voice when he asked, "Which part?"

"The leaving part," I huffed, though I let myself cling to him for a little longer than was probably helpful or necessary.

"Okay, I'll let you go for now." His lips grazed my temple and damn it all if I didn't shiver again. I pulled away and smoothed down the front of my shirt distractedly, dizzy and off-kilter.

"For now?" I echoed and then shook my head. Jesus, he had me all turned around. "Oh, right, next month."

He let out a hum, the corners of his mouth pulling up into a mysterious half-smile. "Right."

I made my way inside on shaky knees, my pulse racing out of control, and this time I knew better than to turn around. I waited in the security line, feeling him even though I knew he was gone, tucked in a cab and on his way home. I pulled off my belt and shoes, dumped my things in a gray bucket, then walked through the metal detector. As I gathered everything, I tried not to think about the ache that was eating at me. I went through all of these motions absently, because while my body was here, my heart and mind were somewhere else entirely.

My lips wouldn't stop tingling from that kiss, no matter how many times I ran my knuckles across them.

I got to my gate and sat down, staring out the window as planes taxied in and took off. I felt alone, like I was missing something, and I thought about what it felt like to land here on Tuesday, the sense of grim determination and purpose that overrode the fear and helped me stride through the airport. I'd come here thinking I was going to close a chapter in my life, and I had, but I'd also opened one. In so many ways, I'd come here to say goodbye, to get closure, but instead I'd opened myself up, had re-forged bonds. And while I was thankful that I wasn't leaving the way I'd thought I would, it was still painful to walk away from them, to go back willingly to the distance that I'd used as a shield, as a form of protection, for these past ten months. I wouldn't let myself go back to that, though. I couldn't.

The nice thing about airports was that no one looked twice at you when you cried. It was expected in a place like this, where the euphoria of hellos mixed in with the heartbreak of goodbyes. So no one bothered me as I curled up in my seat, my boarding pass tucked into my purse, and let a few tears snake down my face. I had to release it somehow because it was settled so heavily in my chest, making it hard to breathe.

When it was time to go, I boarded the plane, snatching a window seat. My stomach dipped as we left the ground and I leaned my forehead against the window, watching Seattle grow further and further away. When we reached 10,000 feet, the teenage girl next to me pulled out her iPod. I could hear the music blaring through her ear buds; it was a stupidly infectious pop song that had been playing at the reception, one that Alice and I twirled around to in bare feet, champagne sloshing around in our glasses.

I pulled down the shade and closed my eyes with a sigh, stretching my neck back a little to see if it helped unravel the knot that was sitting at the base of my throat. It didn't.

When we landed at San Francisco International, it was clear and the sky was a dusky blue. There were people everywhere, hugging and kissing and grinning, and I weaved my way through them to get my bag. I thought about taking the BART home, but the last thing I wanted to do was listen to the ear-splitting scream of metal on metal as the train hurtled me toward the city, so I hailed a cab instead. It smelled like cinnamon and I thought of Emmett, so I rolled down my window, breathing in the cool air. I couldn't think about him without feeling like someone was hollowing out my chest. I felt every mile of distance between us, every hour that it would take to get back to him, to _all _of them.

We sped up the 101 and I stared out the window, watching the suburban sprawl turn into low-lying office buildings and then the bay. The lights of the east bay twinkled in the fading light and soon we were streaking past concrete overpasses and squat warehouses until finally we curved around a bend and the city's skyline rose in front of us.

I exhaled deeply at the sight of the tall buildings spiking along the horizon. It didn't feel the same, not right now, but it was still home.

The cab dropped me off at the front of my apartment building and the driver popped the trunk. He didn't get out to help me as I wrestled with my bags. I threw him a dirty look through the back window, though he couldn't see it, and ranted to myself over giving him a generous tip as I juggled my suitcase, garment bag and purse up the front steps. It took me a few minutes to find my keys to unlock the hulking wrought-iron door that would let me into the lobby; they'd fallen somewhere to the bottom of my purse over the past five days, unneeded. I finally stumbled my way inside and into the elevator, pressing the button for the third floor with my elbow. I leaned against the wall and tilted my head back, staring up at the drab brown ceiling. I could feel the tears sitting in my throat again and I reached up with my free hand, pressing my palm against it. My pulse thumped against my fingers, steady and slow, a sad rhythm.

When I unlocked the front door and stepped inside my apartment, the silence that greeted me was just…god, it was deafening. It was like the roar you got in your ears after you'd been to a concert. The sudden dearth of voices was its own noise and it either took hours or a good night's sleep for the sound to subside.

I wondered how long it would take for it to subside here.

I abandoned my suitcase right next to the bathroom door, let my garment bag fall to the ground, grabbed my phone and then discarded my purse next to the rest of my luggage. I didn't turn on any lights, just made my way across the room and collapsed on my couch. I kicked off my shoes, then pulled the blanket that was draped over the back of the couch onto me. Every part of me was exhausted and drained. I didn't have the energy for anything but my cheek against the cool leather and my fingers against the keys of my phone.

_Home_, I typed out to both Alice and Emmett.

His response was quick as always, saying simply, _okay. _A second later another text came through. _Hey,_ _why did the blonde tiptoe past the medicine cabinet? _

I frowned and then laughed and then suddenly I was crying as my fingers moved over the tiny keyboard, the white letters and screen blurring. I thought about our conversation earlier in the car – what felt like a million hours ago – how he would rather have dealt with an irritated me than a crying me. Did he know now?

_Why? _

I stared at my phone until it beeped and opened his text right away. _She didn't want to wake the sleeping pills. _

I shook my head. He'd told me that one more times than I could count. _Heard it. Not your best showing, McCarty. _

_It's all I could come up with on such short notice, Hale. Still heard you laughing from all the way up here. _

I laughed again, but it was still a little heavy, a little choked by the tears sitting in my throat. Now that I was home, I was disjointed, too used to Forks and my tiny hotel room. For once, my studio apartment felt too big. Even the city was a stranger to me, the intermittent sirens and honking cars the antithesis of the quiet I'd left this morning.

I'd always had this problem growing up. I'd settle myself completely wherever my parents would take me to for vacation, sometimes even pretend that I lived there, that my home was the hotel we were staying in. When we'd get back home, I would be disoriented for days, expecting to look out my window and see something different. Eventually I'd settle back into my usual routine and everything would feel normal again, but those first few hours were always the strangest.

This was a more concentrated form of post-vacation vertigo, though, more bittersweet than waving goodbye to Disneyland as an eleven-year-old, and I wondered how long it would take me to shake the feeling off.

My phone beeped again and I looked down at it.

_Are you crying again?_

I sighed, wiping at my face with a corner of the blanket, then responded. _ Yes, from missing you so much_.

_If I didn't know that was sarcasm, I'd be flattered. I'll call you this week?_

_Is tomorrow too soon? _I asked, not caring if it sounded desperate. Hell, I'd probably call Jasper and Alice tomorrow, too.

_Not soon enough, _he replied lightning-quick. The lonely ache in my chest turned into a different kind of ache and I could feel the corners of my mouth tug up into a stupid smile. I could almost see him in his apartment, lying in bed or sprawled out on the couch, looking at his phone the way I was looking at mine. It felt like we were close, like he was right here. I swore I could feel him.

'_Night, Emmett_, I wrote.

_Night, Miss Daisy. _

I placed the phone on my chest and closed my eyes, a smile still stretched across my face.

* * *

**A/N: Posting on a Monday, just like old times! Hope it's treating you all well so far. **

**As always, hmonster4 is my beta/therapist and makes all of this much prettier. LightStarDusting is my pre-reader/also therapist and tells me everything's going to be okay. **

**Also, I'm on the block of this round of Fandom Gives Back! I'm offering an outtake from this story and also an original one-shot. If you're interested, check out my auction thread here: http:/ bit (dot) ly/950peM. Hmonster4 and I are also offering a collab (Em/R!), which you can see here: http:/ bit (dot) ly/cjt9PL. All for a great cause, of course. **

**All right, see you guys soon! Have a great week. :) **

**Oh, PS: BART is short for Bay Area Rapid Transit, which is a subway system that travels throughout the Bay Area. It's freaking loud and really annoying to ride after a long day of traveling.  
**


	19. Ch 18: Around You

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

It happened without me realizing it, slowly, subtly.

It was text messages at first, one or two every few days, some silly anecdote or a stupid joke, something that made me secretly smile while I was standing in line for coffee at Starbucks in the morning or watching a movie at home on a rainy Sunday afternoon. Emails joined the mix soon thereafter, and then there were phone calls, too.

Two weeks after I got home from Forks, Emmett and I had graduated from texting to talking every day. My heart skipped a beat every time his name popped up in my inbox or on my phone and I started to wonder if it was medically dangerous, the effect he had on me.

I looked up one afternoon to find Garrett leaning against the doorframe, a bemused smile on his face. My fingers paused over my phone's keyboard. Emmett and I had been texting back and forth during my lunch hour, so I probably looked a little deranged. I'd made the mistake of looking in my mirror at home after an hour-long conversation thick with flirtation and banter, and had been shocked by what I found: cheeks red, eyes a little glassy, a goofy smile stretched lopsidedly across my face. I had a feeling that wasn't too different from what I looked like now.

I huffed sitting up straight. "Seriously, you have to stop sneaking up on me like that."

"I knocked." Garrett held his hands up in front of him. "You were just too into your phone to notice me."

I grimaced and set the phone down, my heart jumping a little at being caught red-handed. "Sorry, I'm noticing you now."

"Right, well, can you keep the giggling down? You're freaking Bree out." His tone was light and teasing, but I could see the curious twinkle in his eye.

"I'm not giggling," I said indignantly. "I don't giggle."

"You do now," he replied, standing straight. I opened my mouth to argue, but he waved me off. "Hey, I'm not complaining, I like seeing you happy. It's just that it sets Bree on edge and she's already got such a fragile disposition."

I rolled my eyes and he grinned, disappearing back to his office.

Later that night, I was curled up in bed, the phone pressed between my ear and my pillow, listening to Emmett describe the manhunt that was conducted earlier after Jasper lost his debit card. He hadn't realized it until they were miles away from the restaurant, nearly back at his and Alice's apartment. I could picture them having to double back, Emmett bitching the entire way, to search for the proverbial needle in the haystack at the restaurant. Of course, Emmett found it later on the floor of his Jeep. Jasper never truly lost things, just misplaced them. They always found their way back to him, usually after an exhaustive search of every place but where it actually was.

I still missed not being there, but it was easier to take now that I had someone replaying them for me. I didn't feel like I was missing as much, didn't feel quite so far away.

"Do I giggle?" I asked him, breaking a comfortable lull in conversation.

"Do you giggle?" he repeated. His voice was slow and a little rough. He must've been in bed, too; I could tell he was getting sleepy. I looked at the digital clock next to my bed and cringed. It was past midnight, which meant it would be a double espresso morning. "Mm, sometimes. You have a very girly laugh."

"That would make sense, seeing as how I am in fact a girl."

"You are? Shit, that changes things." He paused. I let my finger drift back and forth over the back of my hand in the same rhythm as his breath, making lazy circles against my skin. "You have a habit of doing that, though."

"Doing what?" I murmured into the darkness, feeling heavy with missing him. I'd almost forgotten what he smelled like, what it felt like when he touched me, and I wondered how much longer it would be before his trip was set in stone. They'd yet to tell him when in October he'd be here, and for how long.

"Changing things."

My body came alive at those two words. We hadn't really talked about what this was, though we'd covered so many other subjects, and this felt dangerously close to a "what are we doing?" segue. I swallowed and rolled onto my back, my heart thumping loudly in the quiet room.

"Rose?" he ventured finally.

"Mmm?"

"Are you asleep?"

That was my loophole. If I said yes he would drop it, say good night. But I found myself saying no instead.

He took a long, slow breath. His voice was even heavier now, a little slurred. "You know there's something going on between us, don't you? I mean, I don't usually just call people on a daily basis to shoot the shit."

Something shifted between us, another inextricable change of direction in our…relationship? It wasn't that, not yet, but it was something close, and that scared me. And yet I felt something akin to relief hearing him acknowledge out loud that it was different for him, too, that he recognized it.

"I know," I sighed and then added, like he didn't know, "you're far away, Emmett."

"Actually, _you're _far away. I'm right here," he mumbled. It sounded like his face was smashed against his pillow.

I rolled my eyes, curling onto my side again. "You're halfway asleep. Go to bed."

"Have I told you that I like it when you order me around?" he said around a yawn. "'Cause I think I really do."

I laughed and pressed my cheek against the cool cotton of my pillow. "Good night, Emmett."

"'Night, Rose. Sweet dreams."

I fell asleep immediately, my phone in my hand, and my dreams were sweet indeed.

* * *

A couple weeks later, Edward and Bella sent a link to the professional photographer's site with their wedding pictures. I called Alice as I opened the page.

"Have you seen the pictures already?" I asked when she picked up the phone, not bothering with a greeting.

"I'm looking through them now," she replied. "Viewing party?"

"Why do you think I'm calling?"

"Because you miss me?" she guessed and I laughed, my chest aching. I did, so much.

We _ooh_ed and _ahh_ed over the photos, which were gorgeous, practically pulsing with emotion and all so intimate. I could hear the click of Alice's mouse through the line, the little sighs she made every once in awhile. The night came back to me in vivid detail. I remembered moments as they appeared on my screen. There were shots of Bella coming down the aisle, a breathless smile on her face, of Edward watching her with tears in his eyes, of Emmett and Jasper giving their speech, and of Alice raising her champagne glass during hers. My heart started to ache when I got to the pictures of the six of us on the dance floor. There were a lot of those; we all looked drunk and happy, and suddenly I missed my friends with a ferocity that threw me off-guard. Despite feeling off-kilter and out of sorts when I got home a few weeks ago, I'd settled back into my life here pretty well. I felt like I fit here again. But these pictures reminded me of another place that fit me just as well, of people that fit me, too, and I couldn't help the melancholy feeling that settled in my chest.

I stopped when I got to a photo of Emmett and me, my breath catching. We were dancing together, in sharp focus while everything in the background was blurred out, softened. It must have been a slow song, because we were pressed together, Emmett's hand covering the small of my back. There wasn't an inch of space between us, like his body was perfectly fit for mine. We'd been in so many pictures together, hundreds probably, but this looked so different. We were looking at each other, smiling, and the way he was gazing down at me in it was powerful. It was the beginning spark of what this had become, what it continued to grow into.

"What picture are you on?" Alice asked, her voice knowing.

"Emmett and me dancing," I replied, trying and failing to sound nonchalant.

"Me, too." There was a pause. I heard her breathe in. "You guys talk a lot." It was a statement, not a question, and I wondered if Emmett had mentioned just how often we were in contact now, because I definitely hadn't. "I always know when it's you calling him."

"How?" I asked quickly.

"I don't know how to explain it. His voice changes. Or _he _changes, maybe. It's just different." She paused. "Isn't it?"

Alice didn't press me too much about Emmett, mostly because I didn't bite when she fished for more information. I liked that this was just between the two of us. I knew they were all invested in what was happening – I called Emmett a few nights ago and they were in the background, heckling and shouting out greetings to me until he gave up and told me he'd call me later – but I didn't want their involvement to manipulate it at all. I wanted it to be just ours for now, at least until we figured out what we could do with it.

I looked out my window, down at the trees that were already turning shades of orange, red and gold. They weren't the only things changing.

"Yeah," I finally replied. "It's different."

I ordered almost all of the pictures, but put two on my desk at work and on my bookshelf at home in brushed silver frames. The first was a group picture of the six of us, arms around each other and laughing.

The second was the one of Emmett and me dancing, invisible sparks igniting on the dance floor.

* * *

I waited outside a cozy café near my office building, cinching the belt on my trench coat a little tighter. A crisp breeze picked up, blowing my hair around my face, and I brushed it away impatiently as I looked down at my watch again. Emmett was in town for his meeting, but there was only time for a quick coffee before he had to catch his flight. Every minute that ticked by was one less minute I had with him.

It was the week before Halloween. It had always been my favorite time of year, when the holiday season really kicked into gear and the wind had an edge of promise of colder temperatures. I could almost smell frost in the air, the warm, rich scent of fireplaces and burning leaves. It reminded me of Forks, of carved pumpkins sitting on porches and knit mittens and ruddy cheeks.

My family didn't celebrate the holidays last year, too caught up in my mom's recovery. I wondered what it would feel like this year, if there would be an added poignancy knowing we almost lost her, that we had a second chance. She was already planning the menu for Thanksgiving, ignoring my reminders that there were actually only three of us attending this dinner and not thirty. She had her mind set on going all out this year to make up for the meal we'd eaten last Thanksgiving in the hospital cafeteria. I didn't want her to exhaust herself, but I also knew this was important to her. I doubted she'd listen to me, anyway. I'd definitely inherited my hard head from her.

Besides, she might have been planning the menu, but we all knew that my dad would end up taking control of the kitchen. My mom's cooking hadn't improved that significantly over the years.

I sighed and looked down the street again. A cute guy in a dark suit passed by me, smiling appreciatively. I barely acknowledged him. There was only one person I wanted to see, and he was now seven minutes late.

I was just pulling out my phone when I saw a tall form turn the corner. Emmett's eyes searched the sidewalk for a second before he saw me, his face breaking into a wide, warm smile. Leaves of red-tinged green and orange and gold, the same color that flecked his eyes, danced out of his way, making a path that led all the way to me.

"Hi," I said breathlessly when he reached me.

"Hi yourself." He looked at me for a long moment; everything that had happened between us this past month and a half was thick in the air. I didn't know what to do or say, but he took control, pulling me tightly against him. I wrapped my arms around his waist, just melted into him, and he chuckled against my hair. I'd heard that laugh so many times lately, but it sounded amazing without the interference of a phone. He stepped back and wrapped his hand around my wrist, his eyes moving over the length of me appraisingly. His smile widened. "You look…"

I raised an eyebrow questioningly, the corners of my mouth moving up into a smirk.

"Cold," he said finally. I smacked his arm and he reeled me in, wrapped his arms tightly around me like he might not let go. "You look gorgeous, Rose," he murmured in my ear. "Like I have to tell you that."

He didn't, but I loved hearing him say it regardless. "Come on, Casanova. I don't have much time with you."

We went inside and I insisted on ordering apple cider for both of us. We slipped into a small table in a corner, our knees pressed together, hands laying near one another's on the table but not touching. While we sipped from our steaming cups, he told me about his day, how he and his boss were helping build up the satellite marketing office in the city. He mentioned he'd be down at least another two or three times and my ears perked up when he mentioned that one of the guys from London was transferring to San Francisco to head up the office.

"Are they talking a transfer for you?"

He shook his head and my heart, stupidly hopeful thing that it was, sank a little. "I'm just helping set up. They've got a few guys to train and my boss handpicked me." He shrugged, then looked over at me, a slow smile spreading across his face. "Why? Would you like that?"

I let out a flustered, strangled noise, cursing myself for so obviously exposing my emotions. My disappointment must have been written all over my face. "I – I, uh…"

"I – I, uh?" he repeated, laughing.

I threw a balled up napkin at him. "Shut up."

"You won't hurt your tough rep if you say how you really feel, you know," he told me, throwing the napkin back. "It's okay if you want me down here. I mean, can you blame you?"

I blinked at him. "God, when did you get so cocky?"

"I went through a few growth spurts," he replied, his tone wicked. "It kind of grew naturally. It's pretty impressive, if I do say so myself." He paused, dimples flashing. "Which I do."

"Doesn't every guy?" I quipped. He just laughed and put his hand over mine. I turned it over so that our palms were pressed together. His thumb swept slowly across my skin, leaving an invisible imprint. We stayed connected like that until the cider was cold, until it was time to go.

I hailed him a cab when we got outside. He opened the door and murmured something to the driver, then popped back up. I was a foot away, my toes sticking over the edge of the curb, and I rocked back and forth on my heels, already feeling his absence.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets. "Thanks for finding time for me."

"It was a real chore, let me tell you." He stepped closer. The cabbie gave a short little honk and Emmett frowned over his shoulder before focusing his attention back on me. "So, I'll be back down the first week of December, right after Thanksgiving."

Relief rolled through me. It was over a month away but at least it was something. It was a deadline. It was tangible, and that made himmore tangible. "Longer trip?"

"Just a little bit. It'll be overnight at least." He nudged me with his elbow. "Will you find some time for _me_?"

"I'm all yours," I promised. I tried to say it lightly, but I kept giving myself away; my voice went low and serious.

"Rose -" His tone mirrored mine.

"You're going to miss your plane if you don't go now," I interrupted, my heart beating hard. I didn't want to talk about this now. I didn't want him making promises he couldn't keep, because I would put all of my hope, all of the things I wished for us inside of those promises. I'd hold onto them, and I didn't want to hold onto something that wasn't solid or sure.

He looked down at his watch and cursed under his breath, then squinted at me. "Fine, you win. But next time I'm down here, you're going to take off your tap shoes so we can really talk, all right?"

"He's going to leave without you." I pointed to the driver, who seemed to be growing more irate with every passing second.

Emmett stepped closer still, grasped my chin lightly between his thumb and index finger. With me on the curb in heels and him in the street, I was nearly as tall as him. His eyes were serious, searching.

"All right?" he repeated. His tone left no room for argument. I knew he wouldn't let go until I agreed. I didn't want him to let go at all.

I nodded silently, not trusting myself to speak. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully for a moment and then he smiled, his gaze moving down to my lips, which twitched under his attention. He leaned forward and brushed his mouth against mine. It was warm fire and spiced cider and cold winter nights and delicious electricity. I balled my hands into fists in my pockets so I wouldn't grab him and ask him to stay.

Because he wouldn't. He couldn't.

He pulled away and I swayed slightly. He laughed, knowing exactly how he affected me. He loved it, the smug bastard.

"One month," he called, slipping into the cab.

"One month," I repeated as I watched him drive away, putting the first of many miles between us.

* * *

Low clouds were hanging in the sky when I landed at Sky Harbor International Airport Thanksgiving morning. I'd waited too long to get my ticket, holding out for a good deal that never came, and finally had to admit defeat when every decent flight on Wednesday had been sold out.

I made my way through the terminal and outside, rolling my carry-on bag behind me. It was warm out, which caught me by surprise, though I knew it would be. Thanksgiving had always been about crisp, wet air and clouded breath. This wasn't necessarily a bad thing, just different. I unzipped my bag wide enough to stuff my jacket inside. It looked like I wouldn't need it.

A dark blue Nissan pulled up to the curb a few minutes later and my dad jumped out, striding over to me.

"Hey, kiddo. Happy Thanksgiving." I stood on my tiptoes to accept his hug and he cradled the back of my head, nestling it against his chest. And then he ruffled my hair and pulled me back, his hands gripping my arms so he could make sure I was all in one piece. He'd given me versions of this same hug since I could remember and I smiled up at him, caught up in sudden nostalgia. It was the same, this moment, whether I was walking in the door of our house in Forks or meeting him at the airport in Phoenix.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Dad," I replied, pinching his arm so he'd release me. He grabbed my suitcase and hauled it toward the trunk. I ducked down, looking in the car. "Where's Mom?"

He popped the trunk and swung the suitcase inside, then shut it with a resounding thump. "She's at home, keeping the turkey company. The weather's making her ache a bit, so I said I'd come and grab you."

I raised an eyebrow. "Did she fight you on that?"

He raised his back, his dark eyes sparkling as he held the car door open for me. "What do you think?"

We talked easily for most of the ride, the windows rolled down. I'd never really get used to the landscape here; I'd grown up surrounded by tall trees and damp earth, endless greenery. Here, the trees came in smaller sizes, if at all, red rocks dominating the terrain. I knew my parents loved it, had been so excited to relocate somewhere warm and dry before my mom's accident, but I wasn't sure it would ever feel like home to me.

When we pulled up to the house, a one-story ranch style abode with white stucco and a tiled roof, my mom was waiting on the front stoop. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, her arms crossed over her chest like she'd been waiting out here for a while. Her cane was nowhere to be seen.

We hugged and I exhaled, closing my eyes. There was nothing like a hug from my mom. It had always been the confirmation of importance when something great happened and the soothing balm when everything seemed to be going wrong. It was comfort and calm, love, a little slice of home.

"My little girl," she murmured, smoothing down my hair.

"I'm not little anymore, Mom," I said with a laugh, pulling back.

"I know, but you'll always be little to me, sweetheart. That's part of the parent contract."

Her eyes, full of emotion, the same blue as mine, traveled over my face. I knew she was remembering, was thinking about how different this year was than last. I swallowed and looked away, forcing the knot in my throat down.

We had so much to be thankful for this year.

True to her word, my mom had planned a veritable feast for us. Everything was in a state of flux – potatoes and green beans steaming on the stove, the rich smell of turkey in the oven, a pumpkin pie (store-bought, I noticed) sitting on the counter. She moved slowly as my dad bustled around her, smacking her lightly on the behind every once in a while. I snuck into the guest room while they bickered playfully with one another and unpacked my suitcase, slipping on a pair of shorts. I pulled my phone from my purse and stuck it in my pocket, just in case. Emmett and I had talked earlier in the day and he'd warned me he'd be busy with his huge extended family in Tennessee, but he'd promised he'd try to call later. I wanted to be around in case he did.

I talked to my mom every few days on the phone, but she still peppered me with questions while she and my dad got everything prepared. She asked me about work, about my apartment, about Edward, Bella, Alice and Jasper. When she asked about Emmett, her voice took on a note of curiosity. I hadn't gone into too much detail about how close we'd gotten, but he came up in nearly every one of our conversations, so she had to know there was something more than friendship. She'd always liked Emmett, but I knew I had to ease her into the idea of me and someone else slowly. This was a first for both of us, acknowledging and understanding that there was someone in my life, someone important that wasn't Edward.

I couldn't hide the smile that spread across my face talking about Emmett and she noticed, tilting her head as she wiped her hands on a dishtowel. My dad squinted at me over her shoulder and grinned, chuckling to himself.

Once the interrogation was over, I sat silently on a bar stool next to the island, watching my parents do their instinctive dance around one another. Twenty-eight years of marriage had fine-tuned their movements; it was like they anticipated where the other was going. I noticed the way my dad would place his hand on her lower back when she stumbled slightly, how she ruffled his hair affectionately when he stole a green bean from its dish. I felt the weight of my phone in my pocket and had the urge to call Emmett, just to hear his voice.

As if on cue, my phone started vibrating. My heart skipped a beat as I fished around in my pocket.

"Be right back," I said, already making my way toward the living room. I pulled my phone out and hit the send button, not even bothering to look at the caller ID. "Hello?"

"Are you bringing the Hostess snacks tonight or what?" a familiar voice asked.

I laughed, feeling a rush of affection. "Jeez, Cullen, happy Thanksgiving to you, too."

"Sorry," Edward replied with a chuckle. "Old habits die hard."

I collapsed on the couch, smiling up at the ceiling. In high school, and even after we'd gone off to college, we'd meet up in Edward's backyard for our own Thanksgiving celebration. One of us would stop at the gas station and pick up Hostess apple fruit pies (except for Alice, who got the chocolate kind), and we'd convene on his front stoop, all bundled up in gloves and hats and big puffy coats. What had started out as a way for Alice, Edward and me to get out of the house and gorge on junk food had turned into a tradition between all six of us that we'd carried on until college ended.

"God, I forgot about that. How did we eat those things?"

He let out a snort. "They were delicious, are you kidding?"

"They were one hundred percent sugar. I bet all of my cavities are because of those stupid pies."

"Totally worth it," Edward said adamantly.

"I don't think so," I shot back, equally as adamant.

He sighed teasingly. "Fine, agree to disagree?"

I shook my head with a grin. Some things would never change between us; arguing would be one of them, whether it was playful or not. "Deal."

"It's good to hear your voice, Rose." I could hear the smile in his voice. We hadn't talked much since the wedding, though it wasn't awkward or strained. It was just different. Long ago, we'd been each other's number one. But as was the case with so many other things, our roles in each other's lives had shifted. It made me nostalgic to think about the way things had been before, but the ache I felt when I thought about what we'd had wasn't painful.

"You, too," I replied. "Will you say hi to Bella and your parents for me?"

"Of course. They're all waving right now." There was a pause and then a chorus of jubilant hellos. His voice came back on the line. "Don't be a stranger, okay? Maybe we'll see you soon?"

His voice was a mixture of amusement and curiosity. I could tell he wanted to ask me about Emmett, though he probably knew everything everyone else did anyway. God knew information traveled through our group of friends like a bad game of Telephone.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Edward," I said pointedly, giving a semi-irritated huff.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Rose," he said with a laugh. I heard a soft click and then there was silence.

Alice called a few minutes later, singing out her Thanksgiving wishes with Jasper. They were spending the day with Jasper's mom in Portland, which apparently had caused some friction with his dad, who was up in Olympia. They'd be stopping by his house the next day for a day-after-Thanksgiving celebration, but Alice said it would be strained. Jasper's dad felt like he was choosing his mom over him, was sticking Jasper in the middle like they always seemed to do.

"How's he dealing with it?" I asked.

Alice hummed. "It's weird. He's very Zen about it. I think he just wants to stay above it all, you know? He knows that he can't fight his parents' battles for them or he'll go crazy, so he's rolling with it this time. He's been extra affectionate with me today, though. I'm surprised he's not here right now, holding my hand."

"He loves you, Alice," I said, thinking of my conversation with Jasper a few months before. "And you're the best example of love he has. I'm sure he's extra grateful for that today."

"Yeah," she replied quietly, thoughtfully. "I am, too."

After I got off the phone with Alice, I wandered back into the kitchen to help finish up. When we finally sat down for dinner – god, there was so much _food _– I leaned back and took everything in. The lights were dimmed overhead, a vase filled with deep red and orange roses sitting in the middle of the table, surrounded by candles. It was similar to the set-up my mom would have put together back in Forks and suddenly this place did feel a little more like home, even if it was different.

"Oh, we forgot to say what we're thankful for," my mom tsked when our plates were empty, our stomachs completely full.

"Ugh," I groaned, resting my head back against my chair. I was already halfway to a food coma.

"No, we have to. It's important."

I looked over at her and she nodded resolutely, her face flickering with emotion again.

"I'll start," she said. She took a deep breath and looked at my dad and me. "I'm thankful for both of you for taking care of me this past year. I'm thankful that I can walk on my own." She paused, looking around the table, and the room was silent. I heard the candlewick pop, but nothing else. I wasn't sure any of us were even breathing. "Gosh, and I'm thankful for all of this food we're going to have to eat for the next two weeks."

My dad let out a low chuckle and I breathed out, blinking fiercely to keep my eyes dry. "Rose, you next," he said, reaching over to squeeze my shoulder. He gazed at me and I could see the pride in his eyes. We'd been by my mom's side through it all together, the good and the bad, and it was something that strengthened our bond, that took us beyond father and daughter.

"I'm thankful for…" I trailed off, because I didn't know where to begin. I was thankful for my friends, for my mom for fighting so hard to stay here with us so that she could experience everything that was still to come in our lives. I was thankful that she and my dad loved each other so much, that they showed me what love meant. I was thankful that I'd gotten on that plane in September, that I'd set aside the anger and resentment I'd felt so that I could move past it. It'd opened my eyes to be thankful for Emmett in ways that I wouldn't have been able to imagine before.

Finally, I sighed. "I'm thankful for everything that's happened to me in the past year, good and bad."

My mom smiled at me softly, then turned to my dad. "What are you thankful for, honey?"

He looked down at the napkin in his lap, smoothing the fabric for a long time. I could see that his fingers were shaking and I looked down, too, to hide my tears. He was trying so valiantly to keep his emotions under control, but it was a losing battle. I heard the tremor in his voice when he said, "You."

Later that night, I was curled in the guest bed, the overhead fan whirring gently. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze, and I could hear a symphony of crickets outside. My phone rested in my hand, my heart still aching from that one word.

_You_.

I felt for button number three, found it immediately and pressed, then brought the phone up to my ear.

"Hello?"

_You_.

I closed my eyes at the sound of Emmett's voice, scratchy with sleep. I'd needed to hear it so badly, needed to remember that he was real, that he was here.

"Hi," I said lowly, my voice a little tremulous.

He was immediately alert. "Rose? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm okay."

"Are you sure? Your voice sounds off."

I looked out the window. The moon hung low in the sky, bathing the street in a soft light. "Nothing's wrong. Did you eat your family out of house and home?"

"Impossible. My mom and aunts made enough to feed the entire state of Tennessee. I tried, though." He chuckled, almost to himself. "We had pie, too, one of my nana's recipes. Every year since she died, someone's been in charge of making one. I think it's a way to keep her there with us, you know?"

"I bet she'd love that you're making new memories with it, too," I said, wrapping a strand of hair absently around my finger. "Don't you?"

"Yeah, she'd get a kick out of it. Then she'd probably complain that whoever was making it was bastardizing her recipe."

I smiled, imagining him with his family, eating and laughing and loving.

His sigh crackled down the line. "C'mon, Rose, tell me what's wrong. Don't make me drag it out of you, because I will and it won't be pretty."

I laughed, but it was a little strained. He stayed silent and I sighed, relenting.

"It's just been a long day, I guess. A good day, but long. Last year was different for us…"

I trailed off, my throat too thick to continue. I listened to the slow, steady rhythm of his breath, the hard, slow beat of my heart that pounded in my ears.

"I'm sure it's been pretty emotional." I hummed in acknowledgement. "Do you want to talk about it at all? We've never really talked about what happened."

He knew the basics, and from what Alice told me had actively sought out updates while he was in London. I'd relied so heavily on Alice to pass on information about my mom's progress, had used her as a conduit, especially after everything that happened with Edward, but she was the only one I'd ever talked at length about it with. I didn't want to think about the bad parts of it now, though. I wanted to remember the good that had come from it, the way my parents' love had strengthened from it, how I had been forced to move forward, to accept and let go of so many things.

How I had gained something, too.

_You_, I thought.

I shook my head against the pillow. "No, I just…" I stopped, my heart beating quickly now. "I just wanted to hear your voice, I guess. I'm sorry I woke you up."

"Don't be sorry," he murmured. "Don't ever be sorry for that. You're the best part of my day, Rose."

I let out a shaky breath. "I miss you."

He sighed and I wished I could see his face, his eyes, understand what he was thinking. "Well, I'll be down next week and I'm all yours for the night."

"An entire night, huh?" I asked, switching gratefully back to the banter that was so easy between us, so safe.

"I know, it's almost _too _much time," he joked.

"I'm sure I'll be pushing you onto the plane by the time I'm done with you," I said, though we both knew it wasn't nearly enough time. We'd take it, though, because it was all we were given. I'd take anything he gave me – a handful of minutes, an hour, an entire evening. "It's late there. Go back to bed, okay?"

He laughed, deep in his throat, and I could tell sleep was trying to pull him under. "There you go bossing me around again, Hale."

"Go to sleep," I said through a grin, gripping the phone tighter. I wanted to talk to him all night, to hear his voice as I drifted into sleep, which had happened more than once, but this wasn't the night for that.

"Hey," he said, voice low. "You know I'm always here for you, right? For anything."

I nodded, though I knew he couldn't see me. It was just one more thing I was thankful for this year, one more reason that he was slowly becoming so important to me.

That night I dreamed the six of us were on the front stoop of Edward's house, eating Emmett's nana's pies. We took turns saying what we were thankful for, Emmett pressed against me from thigh to shoulder.

"What about you two?" Edward asked, brandishing a fork, his breath puffing out in front of him. "What are you thankful for?"

I looked over at Emmett and his eyes were on me, the gold flecks burning bright like sparks. I saw it there, the same things I was feeling, and the air between us flickered with a million tiny, brilliant lights.

"You," I said.

He smiled, bringing his hand up to my face, warm skin against cold cheek. "You."

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**A/N: I know this is insanely late and I'm super, super sorry. Let's pretend it never happened, okay? The good news is that next chapter is already written and beta'ed, so I will be posting next week. Fail boat stops here.**

**Thanks as always to hmonster4 for being the best beta EVAR. You are the brains, homey. To LightStarDust and AccioBourbon for pre-reading, thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you both. They all have amazing stories going, which can be found in my favorites. **

**Thank you all for continuing to spoil me with reviews, alerts, favorites and such thoughtful PMs. I can't tell you how much I appreciate the time you put into reading this and letting me know how you feel. It means a lot. **

**Okay, just like old times...see you next week!  
**


	20. Ch 19: Crazy for You

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

"Rose, I swear to god, if you don't stop bouncing your knee, I'm going to pull a Tanya Harding on you."

I looked across the table at Garrett, who was staring at me pointedly. "You know, you're pretty damn bossy for someone who invited himself here." My gaze went to Kate. She was watching the exchange, arms crossed and amused. "Am I wrong?"

She held up her hands. "Switzerland."

"Hey, I just want to make sure this guy is legit," Garrett spoke up. "You've been walking around with little cartoon hearts in your eyes for the past three months, so he needs to be vetted."

"Garrett, I've been friends with him for ten years. All of my friends are friends with him. He's legit."

"Right, you've been 'friends.'" He bent his fingers into air quotes.

I rolled my eyes, waving him off. "What do you know?"

"Oh, I know all right. Let me explain this to you," he replied, moving his bourbon glass to the side and tenting his fingers underneath his chin. "When a boy likes a girl -"

I stared at him, unimpressed. "Are you serious?"

" – He often stops thinking with his brain," he continued, undeterred, "which can sometimes turn him into an asshole. So _my _job, as your friend and boss, is to ensure he's worthy of you."

"And you think you can sniff that out over drinks?" Kate asked, hiding a smile behind her wine glass. I frowned at her. He didn't need any encouragement.

"Yeah." He pointed to his eyes with his index and middle fingers, then turned them on Kate. "I have a radar."

I reached across the table and smacked his hand down. "Well, turn your radar off, because it's not necessary. And I swear to god, if you embarrass me I'm going to kill you."

Garrett gave me a wounded look, rubbing the back of his hand. "I'd laugh, but I actually think you're capable of it."

I let out a distracted hum and returned to my circuit of looking at the clock and then at the front door of the bar. White Christmas lights were strung up everywhere and holiday music pumped out of speakers that hung from the ceiling. I had an irrational hatred for Christmas music, something I inherited from my dad. He refused to play anything that resembled it in the house, opting instead for jazz and blues. I had a sneaking suspicion it also stemmed from the fact that from Thanksgiving Day until New Year's, Alice would incessantly blast – and sing along to – Christmas music in her car or bedroom. There was only so many times a girl could listen to Mariah Carey declaring that all she wanted for Christmas was you before she broke.

Emmett's plane had landed at eight this morning despite the dense fog that blanketed the bay. The three of us were waiting for him at a little pub just around the corner from the office. He'd called right after he landed – while he was still on the plane, actually – to confirm that our plans were still on for the night.

I wanted to tell him that nothing could have kept me away, but settled for a simple yes instead.

My heart had still been pounding at the sound of his voice, a stupid smile stretched across my face, when Garrett popped his head around the corner. He'd seen the look on my face and, after I told him that Emmett was in town, declared, "All right, I have to meet this guy."

I'd blustered a bit but didn't put up as much of a fight as he'd probably expected. Really, I was grateful for the buffer he and Kate would provide. The brief conversation Emmett and I had outside the café in October hadn't really been mentioned, only alluded to. I knew he wanted to wait until we were face-to-face to continue what he'd tried to start, and I wasn't going to rush it. I still didn't know what to do when it came to him. My mind, heart and body all wanted the same thing – him, always him – but those same parts of me were also stubbornly scared, sure that this would only end in devastation. I could only think of the distance that separated us, could feel it every time the phone disconnected.

Our phone calls had continued to turn toward deeper subjects after our conversation Thanksgiving night. We were revealing more hidden parts of ourselves, fears and wants, and our relationship was starting to feel even more intimate, more deeply rooted. I knew that the intensity we'd been playing with over the phone would probably translate in person, and having Kate and Garrett there would temper it, at least for a while. My nerves were already on edge, raw from anticipating his arrival and what seeing him again would do to me. To us. I knew it would be different.

My knee started going again and Garrett opened his mouth to chide me, but my gaze slipped to the door, almost instinctively. Emmett stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders nearly taking up the whole damn thing. He looked windblown and gorgeous, the collar of his pea coat popped up to stave off the wind, his hair a little longer than the last time I saw him.

I jumped up out of my chair and moved toward him without saying a word to Garrett and Kate. His eyes were roaming around the crowded bar, but it didn't take him long to see me. As I pushed through the crowd, I watched all the little lines on his face shifted – the ones between his eyebrows smoothed out, transferring to the outer corners of his brilliant eyes, and the indentations on either side of his mouth deepened as his lips parted into a smile. The look he gave me sent my blood and heart and breath racing, coerced my mouth up into a grin of its own, and the room just stopped.

I didn't even play it cool when I got to him, just curved myself into him. I found all of the spots where his body and mine fit perfectly. His chest expanded against mine in a sigh that mirrored my own and his arms wrapped around me, bringing me closer still. He smelled like cinnamon, like spice and cold air; he was so familiar and at the same time exciting, new.

His warm breath fanned over my ear. "You again?"

"What a coincidence, huh?" I said, pulling back. He smiled down at me, one corner pulled higher than the other, and brushed a strand of hair from my forehead. My heart quit, throwing its hands up in defeat, because I couldn't control the tempo of it when he was near me. There were so many things I couldn't control. "We've got to stop bumping into each other like this."

"It's getting downright awkward," he agreed.

I grinned up at him and he smiled down at me and everything else got hazy and quiet. We were wound around each other in the doorway of the bar, just staring at one another. The air between us was heavy, slow, waiting.

Finally, I shook my head slightly, trying to clear my head. "Um, we should probably go back to the table."

"Right." He let out a short blast of air and pulled away, reaching for my hand. I let him envelop it and his thumb moved over my skin, just like it had done at the café. It was like he'd found the invisible indent he'd made there, like he was marking me further. "Your text said we had some extra guests?"

"Yeah, my friends Garrett and Kate." I pointed to the table, where they were sitting and openly staring. Emmett waved, laughing lowly, and I turned to him. "You don't mind, do you? It's just one drink."

"Nah, I don't mind. I can share you for a bit."

I pulled him back into the depths of the bar. We were linked by intertwined fingers and I felt the heat of him the entire way back, the front of his body grazing the back of mine. It made me woozy and drunk having him here suddenly, touching me, and by the time we made it to Garrett and Kate, my entire body was pulsing in time with my racing heart.

"Guys, this is Emmett," I said, reluctantly releasing his hand.

Garrett raised his eyebrows, feigning surprise. "Really? I never would've guessed."

"Turn the smart ass dial down, baby," Kate muttered to him. I gave her a grateful look and she smiled knowingly at me.

"Hey, man, nice to meet you," Emmett said, grasping Garrett's hand.

Garrett's eyes darted to mine, full of amusement, and then he grinned at Emmett. "You, too. We've heard a lot about you."

Emmett turned to me with a smirk and I felt my cheeks flush. "Good things, I hope."

"Are there bad things to tell?" I asked.

"I think I've told you everything there is to know, Hale. My phone bill can account for that."

"I'm sure you have a few deep, dark secrets left."

His smile went a little quiet, his eyes moving over my face. "Just a few."

Garrett cleared his throat and I looked at him, disoriented. He pointed to Kate. "Emmett, this is my wife, Kate."

Emmett turned on the charm and drawl for her, and she fell for it hook, line and sinker. Hell, I did, too, and I wasn't entirely sure Garrett didn't. "Kate, it's a pleasure."

"_Very_ nice to meet you," she replied, throwing me a pointed glance. Somehow I knew I'd be hearing all about her thoughts on Emmett later.

We all moved to sit down and I noticed something holographic reflecting off Garrett's ass. Emmett did, too, and he pointed vaguely toward Garrett.

"Oh, uh, you've got a sticker on your pants."

Garrett looked over his shoulder and swore lowly. I pressed my lips together to keep from laughing, but Kate didn't even try to hide it. He glared at us as menacingly as he could, which wasn't very considering he was laughing, too. "Did you both know that was there?"

Kate's eyes widened and she shook her head. Emmett looked at him, smiling but confused. "Why do you have that Selena chick on his ass?"

"My girls like to decorate me," Garrett sighed, plucking the sticker off and holding it up. He eyed Emmett suspiciously, the holographic pattern dancing underneath the dim bar lights. "How did you know this was Selena Gomez?"

"Yeah, are you spending your nights watching the Disney Channel, McCarty?" I asked, poking his stomach. I knew what most of his nights looked like, because they mirrored mine, but I couldn't help teasing him.

The expression on his face flickered between disturbed and amused and he finally decided to settle somewhere in between. "First of all, I'm pretty sure that girl is sixteen years old, so I hope you're not trying to insinuate anything." His gaze went to Garrett and Kate and then slid back to me. The corners of his mouth curled up high. "I prefer blondes, anyway."

My heart stopped and then jumped into my throat, sticking solidly there. I had no witty response, no response at all for that matter, and he laughed, his eyes sweeping languidly over me.

"Well played," I heard Kate murmur. I shot her a glare, but she was too busy giving Emmett the surreptitious once over. She'd seen pictures, but they didn't do him justice.

"You're not really my type," Garrett teased, managing to dispel the tension that was stretched between my and Emmett's bodies like a taut string. I looked over at Emmett. He was smiling widely at Garrett, already sensing a similar brand of humor.

"Guess I'll have to settle for Rose then, huh?" He winked at me and I punched him lightly, but I knew I was beaming. I might as well have been wearing a neon sign with a heart and an arrow pointing right at him.

Kate smiled, her eyes lingering on me. I saw Garrett's fingers snake through hers under the table. "She's a pretty good consolation prize."

"Wow, thanks," I deadpanned. Emmett put his arm along the back of my seat and I felt his fingers drift along the tips of my hair. My scalp erupted into goose bumps and I leaned back slightly, reveling in him being here next to me.

We talked easily for a few minutes; Emmett had them in hysterics within thirty seconds, but I wasn't listening. Instead I watched as he won them over. He didn't even have to try; he was so effortlessly comfortable with who he was, so genuine, that it was impossible for anyone not to fall in love with him.

Garrett noticed Emmett eyeing his empty glass and nodded his head back toward the bar. "You want a drink?"

"Hell yes," Emmett responded enthusiastically.

They both stood up, Garrett dropping a quick kiss on Kate's mouth. I felt the gentle pressure of Emmett's lips against my temple and I started a little, surprised by the contact. When I looked up at him, he seemed a little surprised, too, like it had been unconscious, an instinctive thing. He smiled, a little sheepish, and I reached out to brush my fingers against his, silently reassuring.

As I watched him walk away, I thought about how right it felt to have him here, how well he fit. It continued to amaze me how naturally we had fallen into this, like fate had just been waiting, biding its time until I was ready. Fate had a funny sense of humor, though, because while I may have been ready in ways I hadn't been before my trip home to Forks, the distance still stretched between us.

I sighed heavily and tore my gaze away from Emmett.

"You have some drool," Kate said, motioning to her chin with a smile. "Right there."

I snorted and shifted in my seat, smoothing down my blouse.

We talked for a while, but my eyes kept slipping back to Emmett. Every time I looked at him, his eyes were on or just leaving me. I could feel him all the way across the room, could feel the vibration of his voice, the warmth from his skin. It was so different, this feeling, so foreign to be this tuned in to another person. It was amazing how quickly it had overpowered me and I felt a tiny pang of something that felt almost like guilt.

How was it possible that in such a short period of time he'd worked himself so deeply under my skin? I'd spent ten years –_ ten years – _certain that my happiness lay in Edward's hands. Yet in the past three months, Emmett had shown me, without even realizing it, that there were elements to a relationship I didn't even know existed. Edward and I had always been about push – the push for reaction (usually on my part), to prove who was right in any given situation, to not admit it even when we knew we were wrong.

With Emmett, the scales were more evenly balanced. We butted heads occasionally and challenged one another constantly, but the push was tempered by pull. There was give and take. He somehow knew how to level me out, and I'd never known a feeling like that before.

Edward and I loved each other and the friendship we shared would always be a huge part of who I was, would occupy a piece of my heart forever, but we couldn't have been right for one another beyond that, not when he had Bella.

Not when I had Emmett.

"…unbelievable."

I turned to Kate, blinking. "What's that?"

"You're unbelievable," she repeated, laughing.

"What? Why?"

"You've totally downplayed this whole situation with Emmett."

"I have not." It couldn't be considered downplaying it if I simply hadn't mentioned how deeply involved I was, could it?

"You have," she insisted. "All the lingering touches and lingering looks. There was a lot of lingering. I mean, Rosalie, the air was crackling between the two of you. "

"Okay?" I drew out the word. She was getting to a point; I just wasn't sure what it was.

"Listen, I don't know this guy from Adam," she said, taking a long, slow sip of wine. I leaned back because she was about to say something cheeky. I knew that look well. A blonde eyebrow arched up as her gaze slipped over to where Emmett and Garrett were talking at the bar. "Although, if I were single I wouldn't mind knowing him in the biblical sense."

"Oh, my god."

"Amen," she replied with a laugh. I rolled my eyes, feeling a twinge of possessiveness.

"Hey, hands off. Do you have a point here or are we just going to continue with this come to Jesus conversation?"

The laugh turned into a cackle. "That's actually a very appropriate choice of phrase."

I raised an eyebrow. "I don't need a lecture, if that's where you're going with this."

"I'm not going to lecture you," she replied, setting down her wine glass and that was _exactly_ what it looked like she was going to do. She leaned forward, her blue eyes intent on me. I resisted the urge to roll mine, because she looked earnest and a little serious. My gaze slipped to her wine; it was still fairly full, which meant at least this would be a short reaming. "My point is, I know _you_, and I've never seen you like this."

I was suddenly enthralled with a cocktail napkin, my fingers tearing the corner into little pieces. I couldn't deny it, but I wasn't ready to fully admit it to anyone but myself either.

"Rose, you're an intelligent, beautiful, successful woman -"

"Thanks," I said dryly, the confetti from my shredded napkin raining down on the table.

"- So don't be an idiot."

My head jerked up, my jaw dropping. "Jeez, Kate, don't mince words or anything."

"You're tough, you can take it." She smiled. "And I'm saying this with all the love I have for you."

I shrugged and slammed down the rest of my wine, waving my hand in the air as I gulped. "Fine, so say it," I said when the glass was empty.

"You have feelings for Emmett, right?"

"Yes." It was almost a sigh and even I could hear the plaintive, wistful edge to my confirmation.

Kate must have, too, because she raised an eyebrow. "But you don't want to date him."

I frowned down at my wine glass. "It's not that," I said slowly, trying to pluck the right words out of my confused mind. "It's just…"

"What?" she prompted when I didn't – couldn't – finish my sentence.

"How can it work?" I blurted out. "He's in Seattle. I'm in San Francisco. That's not exactly the recipe for a successful relationship, is it?"

"People do long distance all the time."

"And they break up because of it all the time."

She gave me a look, one that she probably used on Charlotte and Heidi when they were misbehaving. "So you've already skipped forward to the breakup? Come on, Rose."

"I'm not saying that," I argued, frustrated. "But why would I willingly put myself in a position where the chances of me getting hurt are so huge? He's about to get a promotion. He's made it clear that he loves his life up there, so I can't see him moving down here, and I've built a life, too."

Kate blinked at me, took a sip of her wine, and then turned in her seat until she was fully facing me. "Okay, _that_? Reeks of an excuse, and a flimsy one at that. Let's say, hypothetically, that you decide you want to be in a relationship with one another. At some point, Rose, one of you _would _move. The life you say you've built and the one that he's built, that neither of you could possibly leave? That becomes the life you share together. You compromise. Sometimes you make sacrifices for the greater good, and you know that. So what's the real reason you're so spooked?"

I sighed, watching my fingers twist around the base of my wine glass, turning it slowly. The distance between us was a legitimate obstacle, and a large part of the reason that I hadn't done anything about my feelings for him. But if I was being honest with myself, the bigger reason was that if we tried this and failed, I lost him completely. I could already feel the ways in which he'd changed my life and if I let him the rest of the way into my heart, if I let him into my _life_ in that final, huge way and it didn't work, what was I left with?

I took a deep breath and this time I told her the truth. "I don't want to lose him."

"You'd really rather have him as a friend? Watch him date other girls, maybe find someone special and marry her, just so you don't have to face the possibility of the two of you not working out?"

I gave her a sharp look. The thought of Emmett dating someone else, of him touching another woman, made me want to take a baseball bat to every breakable thing in this bar. I was only marginally surprised by the level of emotion that coursed through me at the thought of him getting involved with someone, of having late-night conversations about his childhood, of sharing the mundane everyday things that happened in his life, those things that he shared with _me_ now. I tried to imagine him as a married man, taken by someone who wasn't me, and I just couldn't think about it. I couldn't breathe at all.

I wanted that, wanted him, but I didn't know which was scarier – losing him in that way or _having _him in that way, knowing that I might not keep him forever, that distance or time or life could separate us like it often did for so many people.

Kate took my hand, but I kept my gaze studiously focused on the far wall, littered with old ads and faded pictures. "Love hurts, Rose. That's inevitable, and you're never going to escape it. You just have to find someone that makes it all worth the pain."

My eyes sought Emmett out again. The bar was getting crowded. There were several people in between our table and where he and Garrett were standing, so I let my gaze wander over what I could see – his profile, strong and masculine, the way his cheeks were slightly flushed from alcohol and the cold that rushed in every time someone opened the door, the sound of his laughter. His lips were stretched up into a wide smile that was warm and mischievous, the same smile he sometimes got with Jasper. I could tell he was just waiting for his chance to slip in a snarky comment or joke, not that Garrett would ever stop talking, and the corners of my mouth twitched up.

I had no doubt that Emmett be worth the pain. If anyone would, it would be him.

"It hasn't always been easy for me and Garrett, you know."

I looked over at Kate, resting my chin against my shoulder. She was watching her husband, her brow and mouth soft. I knew she was thinking about Charlotte and Heidi, about the two beautiful blonde six-year-old girls waiting at home for them. They were unexpected, little surprises that came when Kate and Garrett were broke and just out of college, living in a studio apartment and barely making ends meet while they tried to figure out their lives.

Kate told me once that they'd fought over what they were going to do for days after they found out. Keep, adopt, abort, and back around again. They'd yelled and cried about it. And then they'd whispered to each other late at night when the fear was the most potent, when the world was quiet and they were just left with the reality of their situation.

One morning they'd gone for a walk in Golden Gate Park and Garrett had dropped down on one knee, right in the middle of the sidewalk clogged with tourists and families, and asked her to marry him. She hadn't even hesitated, she said, just whispered yes. He'd pressed his cheek against her stomach, held her there for what felt like forever. She told me that all she remembered thinking was she hoped their baby inherited his sense of humor and his height.

"Were you scared?" I asked now, chewing on my lip.

She looked over at me, her eyes a little wide and incredulous, like she was in that moment again. "Scared shitless. And then we found out we were having _twins_. Garrett was drunk the rest of the week."

Garrett let out a whoop of laughter and I looked at him, really looked at him. He was relaxed, leaning against the bar with his shirtsleeves rolled up, his smile easy, eyes clear. I wondered if he ever looked back on that day and thought about what his life would be like if they'd chosen something else.

"Sometimes I sit outside their room when he's reading them their bedtime stories," Kate continued. "I think about how young we still are, how we had all of these grand plans to travel the world and be stupid for a while before we had kids." She looked at me carefully, kindly but firmly. "And then I hear him whisper that he loves them. I hear them call him Daddy, and Rose, this isn't what I expected for us, but I can't imagine a different life."

I nodded and squeezed her hand. We sat in silence for a long while, contemplative amidst the rowdy bar crowd.

I thought I had my life figured out for so long, had assumed that it would go exactly as I'd planned it in my mind. I'd lived on the illusion of control when things hadn't gone my way. I'd fought tooth and nail to preserve the idea of what my life should have been like by ignoring, by refusing to acknowledge and understand that Edward wasn't it for me, that Bella wasn't the reason that I felt so disconnected. I'd learned that life rarely went as anticipated, though, and I was just starting to see that sometimes the surprises in life were the most beautiful part. Pain spurred healing. And for everything that ended, something else began.

Fear was a powerful motivator, though, and I was afraid. I was afraid of opening myself up to Emmett more than I already had. I was afraid of falling with him, though I knew deep down that I already had. I was already there, right at the precipice. But if it went wrong, I'd have to pick up the pieces again and it wouldn't just be my heart that was broken this time.

"I know this feels like tough love, but I saw the way you looked at one another when he walked in here."

I almost asked her to explain, to tell me, but I didn't have to. I felt it. I knew what it looked like, and that was part of what scared me, that it was so obvious. That he knew as well as I did that this was different and big and more, so much more. How much longer could I fight it? How much longer would he let me?

"You need to understand, Rose, that sometimes the risk is so worth it. I know you're freaked out and he probably is, too, but at least talk it out. At least give yourself a chance."

I let out a long breath and gave her something between a shrug and a nod. I couldn't make any promises.

"Okay, that's all," she said, holding up her hands. "I just needed to tell you that."

I squinted at her. "What, to tell me to get my head out of my ass?"

Kate laughed, a sound that was low and loud, a little throaty, and five sets of male eyes from the next table over looked at us and lingered. "In so many words, yes. Just think about it, please?"

"I will," I said, my words clipped to let her know that the subject was closed.

She got it and changed course, but only slightly. "By the way, I know what you're doing with that shirt."

"Hmm?"

She gestured to her own chest. "The girls? You're going to tell me you didn't pick it knowing you were going to see Emmett tonight?"

"That's right," I lied. I knew exactly what I was doing when I picked the shirt. It was a gorgeous silk blouse with delicate buttons that fell like quicksilver over my curves, revealing the expanse of my neck and collarbone, just a tease of cleavage. If an article of clothing were capable of giving demurely sensual looks, this one would be doing it in spades.

"Bend forward," Kate commanded.

I stared at her. "_What_?"

"Just bend forward."

I sighed, but did as she asked, knowing that she was getting an eyeful. My eyes remained defiantly locked on her shoulder.

"Exactly."

"Exactly what?"

"You're wearing _the_ bra."

"I'm wearing _a _bra," I lied again. This _was _the bra, made of gossamer lace that felt like it could break with one heaving breath, held together with delicate underwire and tiny bows.

"I was with you when you bought that bra, Rose. That's a bra that expects to see and be seen."

"I'm not expecting it to be seen." I wasn't, though the thought of Emmett seeing it made my heart and stomach twist. God, I wouldn't mind, not at all. My eyes flickered to him just as he licked his lips, his glass hovering right in front of his mouth as Garrett gesticulated wildly. My voice was distant, uncertain as I said, "I'm really not expecting anything to happen."

"Well, I wish you would. Sexual frustration makes you extra sarcastic."

"You're calling _me _sarcastic? Hello, pot." I looked over at her and she shrugged in acknowledgement, grinning. "Do you and Garrett ever have competitions to see who can out-snark one another?"

"He doesn't even try. Garrett's a kitten compared to me."

"He _is_ quite the pussy."

She gave me a teasingly reproachful look. "Hey, that's my husband you're talking about. Only I'm allowed to call him a pussy, thank you very much."

I looked over at Emmett and Garrett again and they were staring at us, eyebrows up in their hairline. I was still bent forward toward Kate and she toward me; I could only imagine what it looked like. Emmett got the wicked glint in his eye, the same one he always got right before he'd throw Alice over his shoulder, while he was telling a particularly dirty joke or after he'd said something outrageously flirtatious to me, and I knew I was in trouble.

He plucked something from the bar in front of him and I watched as he stuck a cherry in his mouth. His lips, as red as the cherry between them, wrapped around the stem and he sucked the fruit off, pulled it from his mouth, and tossed it in a clean arc toward me. I was so distracted by the way he'd manhandled it that I didn't have time to react; it sailed right down my shirt and I let out an indignant gasp.

They both erupted into laughter and Garrett held up his arms like he was calling a touchdown. They exchanged a complicated handshake and I shook my head and leaned into a laughing Kate, letting her shield me while I surreptitiously fished out the cherry. When I sat back up to give Emmett a glare that could make the balls fall off a lesser man, I noticed two women nearby eyeing them. I'd feel proprietary regardless, but after Kate had planted the thought of him with anyone else, their appreciative gazes felt especially predatory.

I turned my glare on them instead, letting my gaze slip briefly to Emmett. He was looking at me, eyebrow raised, then saw the look on my face and glanced over his shoulder curiously. One of the women smiled, her eyes sweeping over the length of his body. If I had claws, they would've been fully extended and embedded in her back, because I knew that look. I'd _given _that look to Emmett, and my glare turned from ice to fire when he gave her an easy, distracted smile. She bit her lip and he turned back to me. I must have had murder written all over my face, because he tilted his head and smiled. It was full, brilliant, just for me, and entirely too amused.

"Who are you trying to set on fire with your eyes?"

"Huh?" I looked over at Kate. She was watching me with an amused smirk on her face. "Oh, those girls are attempting to eye fuck your husband and my -"

I stopped before _boyfriend _escaped. The wine had made my brain and tongue loose; it looked like one glass would be it for me tonight. God knew what kind of trouble more alcohol would get me into.

"Your?" Kate drawled, grabbing her wine.

I rolled my eyes and stood up, studiously avoiding her question. I plucked the cherry from the table and then strode purposefully toward the bar.

Emmett was rifling through the small container of cherries when we got up to him and Garrett. The bartender was giving him the side eye, but didn't say anything when he picked one out and stuck it in his mouth. The stem poked out from between his lips, rolling back and forth as his tongue moved the cherry from side to side.

I squeezed in front of Emmett, placing one hand on his arm and holding his makeshift projectile between my thumb and forefinger with the other. One of the women, the one who'd been flirting with him, was now eyeing my hand. I smiled sweetly at her before turning back to Emmett.

"I think you misplaced this."

He took the cherry and tossed it into Garrett's drink; luckily he was too busy nibbling on Kate's bottom lip to notice. Emmett grinned mischievously. "Oh, sorry, I thought it was yours."

I laughed. "I haven't had one of those in quite awhile, McCarty."

The cherry stem stalled as my words sunk in and I grabbed it, pulling it off. He chewed slowly, the muscles in his jaw twitching, and he looked off balance for just a second before the cocksure smile was back in place. "And here I thought you were saving yourself for me."

I widened my eyes with feigned innocence. "I think it's better to be experienced, don't you?"

"Experienced? Sure. But I'm sure I could still show you a few things," he replied, his eyes drifting down to my mouth and lower. I felt the weight of his gaze low in my belly and all of the blood in my body turned hot, molten.

"You look wasted. Are you wasted?" I blurted out, my hand fluttering over my chest. My finger ran absently along my collarbone and he watched its movement before meeting my gaze again. Jesus, he had to stop looking at me like that.

His eyes were heavy-lidded, like his lashes were weighing them down, and a little glassy. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip and grinned. "I'm a little drunk, yeah, thanks to Garrett. And _you_ look a little jealous."

I gave a derisive snort. "Of what exactly?"

"C'mon, you were about to go all _Kill Bill_ on that girl. I saw you. Are you jealous, Rose?" he asked in a singsong voice, dipping his head down so that his mouth was right next to my ear.

"Absolutely not." I wanted to say there was nothing to be jealous of, but that was bitchy, even for me.

Even if it was true.

He must have caught the evil glint in my eye, because he raised an eyebrow, looking at me unsteadily. "Just say it."

"It's not very nice."

His eyebrows went up. "When has that stopped you before?"

"Excuse me," I said archly. He grabbed my hand and pulled me closer until we were connected at hips and chest. With these heels on, his lips weren't too far from mine.

"Oh, put the claws away, Hale. I'm just playing with you." He leaned back and looked down at me, his arms still clasped around my waist. I let my fingers curl around his bicep, feeling the slight rise of fabric where the sleeve of his undershirt stopped. My heart slowed, steadied, matched itself to the beat of his.

"Maybe it'd help if you didn't flash your dimples around willy nilly. You should be more careful who you direct them at."

"What if I direct them at you?" He tilted his head, his mouth melting into a smile that was affection and challenge. His eyes drifted over my face slowly, like he was taking me in.

"Maybe you could point them in the direction of your new boyfriend, Garrett," I shot back.

"I heard that," Garrett called. I looked over my shoulder at him with an innocent smile. "Not in front of the wife, okay?"

"I'm his dirty little secret," Emmett sighed. Kate and I exchanged exasperated looks, but secretly I loved that Emmett and Garrett were getting along so well. I knew they would, but it was important that Emmett fit into this part of my life.

And he did. He fit so effortlessly into so many parts of my life in a way that both excited and scared me.

We lingered at the bar for another hour, ordering a round of appetizers. Kate and I might as well have not been there; Garrett and Emmett were so busy solidifying their best friend status that we were forced to entertain ourselves. I almost wanted to call Jasper to warn him that he had some fierce competition.

Finally, Garrett noticed that Kate had been staring at her watch for the past ten minutes and clapped both Emmett and me on the back.

"We should probably get home to the girls and relieve the babysitter," he announced, standing up. Kate stood, too, mouthing, _finally_. "And you two probably want some time alone."

"You think?" Kate muttered.

I gave them a warning glare, but Emmett wasn't really paying attention anyway, too busy polishing off what was left of the calamari.

"Oh what, you're done monopolizing him now?" I hooked my thumb at Emmett. "By the way, getting him drunk is your grand plan for making sure he's not an asshole?"

"Bourbon is essentially a truth serum," Garrett said with a shrug. "The good news is he's not an asshole."

I rolled my eyes. "Thanks for the confirmation."

"Oh, are we leaving?" Emmett asked, pushing the empty plate aside.

"_We _are," Kate replied, her mouth twisting unnaturally as she tries to hide her smile.

"We are, too," I spoke up, loving that we were a _we_, an _us. _

Emmett stood and gave Kate a quick hug. I turned to Garrett, who smiled down at me, warmth radiating off of him. "He wouldn't shut up about you, you know."

My heart jumped. "Yeah?"

"Come on, Rosalie." He wrapped his arm around my shoulder. "You know he's crazy about you."

I looked down at my feet. "Yeah, well…it's complicated."

"Isn't it always?"

I shrugged as Kate put her hand on my back. I wrapped my arm around her waist, giving her a squeeze.

"McCarty, my man," Garrett said, pulling him into a man hug. Emmett slapped him on the back and Garrett wheezed slightly, rocking on his heels. "Come back and see us soon, okay?"

"Will do." Emmett pulled out his phone, waving it in the air. "I've got those best friend bracelets on order. I'll send you yours with a pretty little bow."

"Okay, well just remember I have a very dainty wrist," Garrett replied, blinking solemnly.

"Oh, for god's sake. _Bye_," I said pointedly. Garrett let out a cackle and Kate rolled her eyes, pushing him toward the door.

When they were gone, Emmett tried to help me into my coat, but ended up entangling me in it instead. I helped him into his after straightening mine out, both of us laughing, and he grabbed my hand as we made our way toward the exit.

We got outside and he wrapped his arm around me, tucking me tightly against him to stave off the misty chill hanging in the air. The fog had gotten thick in the few hours we'd been holed up inside and it sank right into my bones. Emmett pulled out a tin of cinnamon Altoids with his free hand, popping the lid with his thumb. His hair was a mess of silken curls, whipping around his head in the frigid wind. The tips of his ears and his cheeks were pink, his lips red.

"You want?" he asked, holding it out for me.

_Yes_, I thought, staring at his mouth. But I shook my head instead. He shrugged and released his hold on me to pop two in his mouth, stuffing the tin back in his pocket. His arm went right back around me, pulling me even closer.

There was a brief silence while I tried to figure out what to say, what to do. I was more than a little distracted being so close to him, too; his solidness and warmth, his touch, made it hard to think. "So, where are you staying?" I asked finally, pulling away and turning so that we were facing one another. The wind whipped my hair up and out in the wind and he wrangled it, wound his fingers around the wayward strands, and tucked it into the upturned collar of my coat. His knuckles brushed against my throat, right where my pulse pounded.

"At the W." He looked down at me, his hand cupping my neck briefly. His eyes were the color of the sky above us, the darkness casting shadows on his face so that only certain features were revealed to me. His lips were spotlighted, dark and stretched up into a small smile; the dimple that I could see was deep, mischievous. "Why, are you done with me?"

My heart stuttered and I almost laughed, because I didn't think I could ever be done with him. I wanted to soak up every hour he had here, every minute. "Not quite."

He stepped closer and I could smell the cinnamon on his breath, could smell the bourbon, too. "So, let's hang out. You, me, your couch…" he trailed off suggestively, letting my brain come up with at least eleven scenarios for that unfinished sentence, all of them wildly inappropriate. He smiled like he could see right through me, into me. "And a movie?"

"Fine." I squinted up at him, my heart hammering against my ribs. He was swaying slightly. He always held his liquor well, but his body was betraying him now. I wondered if he was going to pass out as soon as he sat down. "You're an awful lot of trouble, McCarty, you know that?"

He reached for my hand, enveloping it in his, and it was warm, electric and comforting. "I'd like to think I'm worth it."

I turned toward the street, my eyes scanning it to find an available cab, hiding the smile that bloomed across my face. When I spoke, my words flew away on the wind. "I know you are."

* * *

**One week later, as promised! Thank you guys so much for letting me know what you thought last chapter. I was blown away (maybe that's not hard to do - I say that a lot). So blown away, apparently, that I didn't get a chance to tell you all just _how_ blown away I was. I will get around to review replies this chapter, I promise. **

**Hmonster4 takes care of this (and me). Thanks to her forever. LightStarDusting and AccioBourbon pre-read and gave the thumbs up. Thanks to them forever, too. :) **

**Next chapter will start back up pretty much right where they're leaving off. Getting near the end here...I'm anticipating a fairly quick turnaround, but don't hold me to it.**

**Oh, and happy early birthday, Tor! This one's for you, gurl.  
**


	21. Ch 20: Maps

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. **

**Also, just a friendly reminder that this story is rated M. **

* * *

When I was seven, I decided I wanted to be a gymnast. Lauren Mallory had been bragging about how perfect her cartwheels were, which I'd taken as a personal challenge. Everyone in our second-grade class knew _I _was the reigning cartwheel champion, at least as far as playground rules were concerned.

My mom had signed me up for gymnastics the next week. We'd started out slow, doing cartwheels and somersaults, completing easy routines on a low balance beam that was maybe half an inch off the floor.

And then it had been time to do flips on the high bar. Really, it was a much smaller version of the high bar, but at the time it'd seemed huge to me, larger than life. My heart had raced staring at it, my palms damp with anxiety. It'd seemed so risky to me at the time. I'd sat the first lesson out, faking a stomachache, watching all the other little girls do flips like it was no big deal, like their life didn't hang in the balance of gravity and a stupid, flimsy little bar. I'd even managed not to smack Lauren when she called me a chicken, although that was probably only because our teacher held me back.

I still managed to give her an earful.

I kept up with the lessons, doing cartwheels that Lauren could only dream of, somersaulting my little heart out, dominating on the balance beam. But the high bar remained out of reach, literally and figuratively. I watched week after week as my classmates clapped with delight when it was time to head over to the bar, their ponytails and legs flying as they flipped, one after another after another. It didn't matter how many times my instructors tried to tell me that nothing bad would happen. _I _hadn't believed it, so it couldn't be true.

It took a month of sitting on the high bar sidelines and listening to Lauren's increasingly smug attitude before I finally snapped. I strode over to the mat, my legs shaky and palms sweaty. God, I remembered it like it was yesterday. I'd been determined to prove Lauren wrong, but more than that to prove _myself _wrong. I was tired of being scared. The high bar and I were going to go tête-à-tête, and I was going to win.

I'd dusted my hands with chalk, grabbed onto the bar, closed my eyes and flipped over the bar while my classmates looked on. I was so shocked when I opened my eyes that I'd done it without dying that I let go and promptly fell on my ass. But the next time I did it, I didn't fall at all. The fear eventually receded, though I'd still get a flutter in my stomach when I'd step in front of it, knowing it was a challenge I could face.

That memory came to me as Emmett and I stepped into the elevator to go up to my apartment. I couldn't stop thinking about my conversation with Kate and her insistence that sometimes the risk was worth possible pain. Granted, letting myself be vulnerable to someone else, giving him my heart, was a little different than mustering the courage to flip over a bar in gymnastics class, but both involved risk nonetheless.

_Or maybe it's faith, _I thought as I pressed the button for the third floor. Emmett stood across from me, adjusting the strap of his messenger bag. His cheeks and ears were pink thanks to the twenty minutes we stood out in the frigid cold looking for a cab and then the heater blasting in the one we finally managed to hail. His hair was wind-blown and wild, and his eyes wandered over my face in a way that was so familiar to me now. He was taking me in, thinking about god knew what. We'd spent the ride over trading teasing words and lingering touches, and my pulse hadn't had a chance to slow down once. I wondered if he had the same reaction to me as I did to him. It was hard to tell underneath all of the lightness, the flirting.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, leaning back against the wall, my finger hitting the little button over and over again, as if that would make the elevator go faster.

"Why are you smiling like that?" he shot back, head tilted, dimples framing the impish curl of his mouth.

My own mouth stretched into an embarrassingly wide smile that I couldn't stop, and I shrugged as the elevator came to a halt and the doors opened. "I'm not smiling like anything."

He followed half a step behind me and I felt the hum of anticipation low in my stomach, the little flutter of invisible butterflies. When I looked over my shoulder at him, my key sliding into the lock, he was watching me. I could feel that same anticipation that was vibrating through me in the air between us; I could see it in his eyes.

I knew there was risk involved, but I couldn't deny that there might be a reward, too. And for once, I was tired of thinking so damn much. I was tired of staring at that metaphorical high bar and worrying about what could happen. I wanted to enjoy the time we had left tonight, feel the rush he gave me that felt so much like flying.

My apartment was dark and quiet when we stepped inside. I reached for the light switch before remembering that the bulb had burned out last week; I hadn't had a chance to replace it.

"I love what you've done with the place," Emmett said into the darkness.

I made my way blindly toward my nightstand and flipped on the lamp. When I turned back toward him, he was in the middle of my room, blinking. "You've got a smart comment for every occasion, don't you, McCarty?"

He shrugged and smiled, then looked around, his gaze stopping on the bed next to me. "All I'm saying is that I'm a big fan of dark rooms with beds."

I raised a suggestive eyebrow as I shrugged out of my coat, laying it at the foot of my bed. "Well, now it's a lit room with a bed, so you've got one out of the two."

"I think I've got everything I need here, actually," he replied, pulling off his coat and tossing it next to mine. His shoes went next, discarded at the foot of the bed. I felt my cheeks flush at his words and it spread down to my neck and chest when he moved closer, his eyes locked with mine.

"Pouring on the Southern charm, huh?" I murmured. We were standing close now, mere inches away from one another. I brought my hand forward, brushed the backs of my fingers against his and he looked down, then back up at me, the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly.

"I'm the least charming in my family. You'd be in trouble if you ever came to Tennessee."

The way he said it was so casual, but his gaze was steady on me, as if he was gauging my reaction.

I cleared my throat and took a breath. The thought of going to the place where Emmett was born and partly raised, where his beloved nana baked him pies and made such an indelible mark on him, made my stomach dip. I wanted to know that part of him, too. I wanted to be a part of that life. "I happen to like trouble."

"Then you'd probably like Tennessee," he replied with a small smile. I had a sudden, intense desire to launch myself at him, but I resisted, enjoying the slow burn between us.

For the moment, anyway.

"Uh, so." I gestured expansively. "Do you want the tour?"

His eyebrows rose up and he looked around, his grin going impish. "Oh, there's more?"

I rolled my eyes and took his hand, which was unnecessary because I could point at every nook and cranny from where we were standing, but I wanted the excuse to touch him. His fingers wrapped through mine immediately, intuitively. My hand felt small enveloped in his, cradled and protected.

I led him to the little kitchenette first. "This is the place where you can get water and Advil later if and when you're hung over."

He shook his head purposefully. "I don't do hangovers."

My mouth dropped open. "Uh hello, do you not remember -"

"Don't even-" he started, holding up his hand.

"- You, Edward and Jasper," I continued, poking him in the chest, "at Kalaloch that one summer? One of you dumbasses brought moonshine and you all got completely obliterated."

"It was _moonshine_," he exclaimed.

"I went into your tent the next morning and thought you were dead." I could picture him, arms and legs spread out in starfish formation, his sleeping bag unzipped and thrown haphazardly over his prone body, and my increasingly frantic attempts to wake him up.

He grimaced. "Yeah, well you shrieking in my ear really rectified that situation, didn't it?"

"Right, and then you threw up on me."

"I threw up near you," he said with conviction, then repeated for good measure, "_near_." He paused and his eyes narrowed when he saw my mouth twitching. "Oh, okay, laugh at my pain. I couldn't touch alcohol the first six months of senior year because of that shit. My last year of college should've been my drinking prime."

"You brought it on yourself," I replied, laughing openly now. At the time it wasn't funny, particularly when I thought he'd died of alcohol poisoning, but the hangover he, Jasper and Edward had endured for the rest of the trip was a fair dose of karma. "Anyway, water and Advil in here, should you need it based on past events."

"Great. Show me the rest of your place. I'm already lost."

I shot him a glare, but he smiled and nudged me. "I'm joking, Rose, it's great."

It took approximately one minute to show him the rest of my studio, but he spent extra time looking things over. He thumbed through the magazines and newspaper on my coffee table, easily finding – and generously not judging me for – the _Us Weekly _I'd stuffed between _Vanity Fair _and _The New York Times_ at the bottom of the pile. He stooped down at my bookshelf, his eyes scanning the picture frames propped up there. I watched from a foot away, arms crossed, while he grinned and chuckled at the various photos.

"Hey," he said suddenly, holding up a silver frame. I leaned forward and panic pulsed through my veins when I realized that he had the picture of him and me from Edward and Bella's wedding in his hands. "You put this one in a frame?"

"Oh, well…" I trailed off with a shrug, playing with a stray thread at the hem of my blouse. When I looked back up at him, he was staring at me, his lips twisted up thoughtfully. I swallowed and gathered up what little liquid courage my one glass of wine had afforded me. "It's my favorite."

He let out a low hum, then put the frame carefully back on the bookshelf, shooting me a smile that hit me right in the sternum. "Mine, too."

He stood up straight and I let my eyes wander over him, watching as he undid a button on his shirt. My gaze moved down to his feet, clad in black socks. He looked so right here, so natural and comfortable. It felt like he was taking up every square inch of the room, making it cozy rather than cramped.

God, I liked the way he looked in my home.

"Do you mind if I use your bathroom really quick?" he asked, hitching his thumb at the door.

"Sure. Think you can find it from here?" I teased as he went to his bag, rifling around.

"Shit, if I can't then I'm definitely drunk."

"_Are_ you still drunk?" I asked. It had been awhile since his last drink, but god only knew how much Garrett had given him.

"Nah, I'm sobering up very nicely," he replied, gaze lingering on me.

He stood, a small, nondescript case in his hand, and I gestured toward my closet. "I'm going to change into something -"

"More comfortable?" he asked hopefully.

"Mmhmm." I smiled sweetly. "Footed pajamas to be exact."

He let out a dramatic moan, closing his eyes. The sound was ridiculous, but somehow still managed to make my stomach quiver. "_So_ hot."

I cleared my throat. "Uh huh, go…" My hand fluttered fitfully in the air. "Do your bathroom thing."

His brow furrowed and then smoothed out, his mouth pulling up into a brilliant grin. Jesus, was I that easy to read? "See you in a few."

I slipped into my tiny walk-in closet, yanking on the cord attached to the light bulb in the ceiling.

"Hey, do you have an extra toothbrush?" he called from the bathroom, his voice muffled. "I forgot mine."

"Medicine cabinet, second shelf."

There was a pause and then, "Oh, pink, my favorite!"

I rolled my eyes and then realized there was no one there to see me act unaffected, so I broke out into a quick, silly dance instead, rifling through my drawers to find semi-decent pajamas. I let myself imagine that this was our normal nightly routine, him brushing his teeth in the bathroom while I got ready for bed in my tiny little walk-in closet. I imagined that instead of curling up on the couch to watch a movie, we'd fall into bed together, that he would kiss me, touch me the way I'd thought about, (vividly) dreamed about, secretly ached for the past three months.

I pulled out a pair of cotton sleep shorts and a v-neck t-shirt, then wriggled out of my pants. My blouse went next and I glanced down at my now nearly naked body. When I breathed in deeply, I could see my skin trembling out a quickened beat above my heart. It was racing, both light and heavy, and I ran my fingers over the edge of my lace underwear, the matching set to my bra, envisioning Emmett's reaction if he were to see me like this. My bottom lip caught between my teeth, my mouth spreading into a grin. He'd never been shy about his admiration for me physically. Still, I knew this would probably bring him to his knees.

The bathroom door creaked open and then Emmett's voice was right next to the closet door, startling me out of my thoughts. "What's going on in there? Do you need help with your footies?"

I cracked the door to make some smart ass remark, still smirking, but it died in my throat when I caught sight of him.

He'd shed his button-down shirt, now dressed just in black pants and a v-neck undershirt that subtly revealed the firm planes of his chest, the broad span of his shoulders, a tease of collarbone. A shadow of stubble dusted his jaw line and above the cupid's bow of his top lip. His hair was a mess, making him look rumpled and gorgeous.

My gaze finally made it up to his eyes, which were now framed by glasses. I'd never had an opinion on glasses either way, but there was something about them that made him look like even more of a man, mature and sexy. The air in my lungs was sucked out in an embarrassingly loud hitch of breath and I leaned forward, the closet door falling open slightly. His eyes dropped down at the movement and I swore his pupils dilated as his gaze settled on the delicate lace of my bra, which I'd just inadvertently flashed him.

"Jesus," we both said, though his voice was lower, jagged.

"When did you get glasses?" I asked, almost accusatory. This was quickly spiraling out of control and the visceral need I felt for him was a little frightening; the glasses very well may have tipped me over the edge.

"Huh?" he grunted. I repeated myself and he ran a hand through his hair, mumbling, "I…just hold on a second, my ability to think just took a major fucking nosedive."

His hand was braced on the door frame, the veins in his arm making subtle little road maps, pumping blood back to the heart that must have been going as fast as mine. The way he was looking at me was making the backs of my knees weak and I gripped the doorknob. The air was thick between us.

Apparently I didn't need to imagine his reaction. This was him on his proverbial knees and I couldn't help goading him, just a little bit.

"You act like you've never seen my bra before." He looked up at me, confused, slightly slack-jawed, and I tilted my head, thinking of that night all those years ago in Alice's bathroom, how his lips felt on mine. "Alice's party? When we kissed? My shirt was soaked with beer…" I prompted.

"It had flowers on it," he replied automatically.

I was shocked into silence for a moment. "You remember that?"

He let out a breathless laugh, his cheeks going pink. "Yes, I remember that." His gaze darted back down to my chest and his fingers tightened around the door frame. "Rosalie, I don't mean to be rude, but you're driving me fucking insane, so either put on your shirt or…"

I stared at him until his eyes met mine again and they were on fire, gold and brilliant blue and green. "Or?"

"Or I'm going to do what I've been thinking about for…" he shook his head, clenching and unclenching his jaw before sighing, "a really long time. But you can't just stand there. You've got to help me out here."

Somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered that he was leaving tomorrow morning, that he lived 800 miles away, and my heart danced fretfully, wanting to back away from that risk, the theoretical bar. But I couldn't deny that behind the want on his face was a distinct hint of need, too, something deeper than the obvious and overwhelming physical connection between us. And maybe it was just that our bodies were desperate to catch up to the three months' time we'd had to connect in every other way, and we finally had the opportunity to allow it to happen.

God, I wanted it to happen. I needed, too, ached with it .

It was so incredibly quiet that I could hear the low hum of traffic, even through the double-paned windows. The door drifted open slowly until it hit the wall with a soft thud.

"_Jesus_. No pants either? What are you doing to me?" he groaned. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped hearing the despairing edge in his voice and he laughed, too, but it was tight. His gaze dropped down to my underwear, bounced back up to my breasts and then finally settled on my face. "C'mere. Please."

His voice was low and confident and I stepped out of the closet, pressed my body against his. He gripped my hip with one hand, snaked his other hand around the back of my neck. Mine fisted the fabric of his shirt. His heart flew against mine; I felt how fast and hard it was thumping, the only indication his body gave that he was anything other than completely in control.

Well, not the _only _indication. I could feel him hard against my abdomen and my stomach clenched as I pressed myself closer, pulled at his shirt to mold him as tightly against me as I could. He smiled when I pulled off his glasses, reaching blindly back into the closet to set them on a shelf.

His lips found mine as soon as I faced him and there was no hesitation. We'd been waiting for this too long; his mouth opened at my insistence and when I felt his tongue against mine, I was gone, pulled under and gripping him to me like an anchor. He made a low sound in the back of his throat, a moan or an audible sigh, and I hummed in response, an acknowledgement that I was right there, too. My bare back found cool wall, my spine pushing into it; it wasn't uncomfortable, not when the pressure was due to Emmett's body crushed against mine. His lips were warm, firm and soft and perfect, his stubble rough against my skin. He tasted like mint, felt like home.

I spread my palms flat against his back, felt him tremble slightly underneath them, and I needed to feel his skin, the muscles working underneath it as he touched me.

"Please get more naked," I demanded, curling my fingers around the hem of his t-shirt.

"Uh huh." He released his hold on me, only to allow me to pull it over his head, and then his hands were back on me, everywhere, impatient, skimming and exploring and then digging in. I weaved my fingers into his hair; I'd been dying to do it for too long and when my fingernails scraped lightly along his scalp, he let out a moan. I felt the vibrations of it deep down, low.

His hands went to my face, cradling it, and his thumb pulled at my bottom lip before his mouth covered it, gently licked and sucked at it. The room echoed with our ragged breath as I pushed him, leading him blindly to my bed. I made quick work of ridding him of his pants and he kicked them off, his hands drifting down to the slope of my ass, walking backward and holding onto me.

"Shit! Ow, ow, ow," he swore as he tripped over his shoes. His arms circled around my waist instinctively and we fell onto the bed together on top of the coats, laughing and breathless and touching.

"Are you okay?" I asked into his neck, then kissed it, letting my tongue taste his skin there.

He groaned. "Yes, very okay. It's just a toe. I have nine more." He crawled backward, batting impatiently at the pillows propped up against the headboard, his other hand gripping my waist to keep me with him. "Do you sleep with all of these? What is this?"

"Shut up, there aren't that many." I knelt above him, smacking his hand away, and grabbed the rest. They sailed across the room, one of them sending the lamp next to my couch swaying precariously. When I looked down, he was staring at my breasts, and then my bra was off and he was palming them, pinching, licking. I let out an impressively long string of unintelligible words, my toes and fingers curling, back arching to get myself closer.

"Do you have a cond-_hum, _fuck…" he trailed off as I settled down on top of him, rocking against the length of him. He looked up at me, his eyes dark and fervent, hungry. "I didn't bring – I wasn't sure this would happen. I didn't want to assume."

I rifled around in my drawer and dug out a foil square that hadn't seen the light of day since I stuck it in there months ago, handing it to him. A couple of pens clattered to the ground in my urgency.

I bit my lip as his hips moved up, grinding into me. "I haven't needed them in a long time," I gasped out, the words tumbling out of my mouth.

"Shh, don't explain. It's okay." He was breathless, his hand against my cheek. "I have you now."

And he did.

We kissed for what felt like forever, arching into one another, desperate hands and exploring mouths and searching hips. At some point, we were just bare limbs and skin. When we were finally pressed together, him on top of me now, we both let out long sighs, our breath tangling between connected mouths.

Emmett pulled back slightly and I looked up at him. I should have been surprised at how quickly this happened, but really, it had been such a long time coming. We'd been heading toward this destination for months, maybe years. The moment felt heavy, intimate, ours; my chest expanded when his pulled back, always touching, and he brushed the hair from my face, his gaze moving over me. He wasn't smiling, but I saw the contentment in his eyes, the need.

And then he was right there and his mouth took mine when he pushed into me.

"God, Rosalie," he breathed against my lips, breaking off as we found a perfect rhythm; it was slow, deep, intense, so good that I arched up off the bed, fingers digging into his back. "Do you know how beautiful you are?" My legs wrapped around his waist and he dipped his head, his mouth sucking gently at my neck. "Do you know how much I -" he faltered as his hand ran along the contour of my waist, "how much I want you?"

"Yes," I whimpered, repeating it again, because I did. I saw it, felt it, heard it in the taut edge of his voice. It was the same for me, wanting him, needing. It had been before, this magnetic pull, but the intensity was so much deeper now, irrevocable.

Words rushed through my mind, chaotic and jumbled, blending together and then pulling apart, _love _and _forever _and _stay. _But then he looked down at me like I was brand new to him and the only word that floated to the surface, strong and clear, was _you._

We moved together and he held my body and heart close to him until we were gasping. I pressed my open mouth against his shoulder when I came, sudden and so intense that I saw stars behind my eyelids. His fingers intertwined with mine and I listened to his sounds, felt his muscles strain with effort and then go slack as he followed me.

We were silent for a minute afterward, recovering. He gathered me close, our limbs heavy and intertwined. His hand moved up and down my hip and when his head lolled to the side, our eyes met and we let out breathless, awed laughs.

"You're amazing," he murmured, kissing me long and slow, making my stomach clench. My hand went to his face, curving around his cheek. "I'll be right back, okay?"

I made an affirmative noise that landed somewhere between a hum and a sigh, completely useless, and watched as he hauled himself out of bed. He tripped on his shoes again, pitching forward on what looked suspiciously like shaky legs, and let out a low curse. Lazy laughter bubbled out of my throat. He glared playfully over his shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom.

I closed my eyes briefly, my heart thumping out its steadiest beat, feeling sated and content. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so completely right.

I turned off the lamp just as Emmett came back out and his naked body was illuminated by the city lights seeping in through my half-open blinds. I let my gaze drift over him unabashedly, admiring the long, solid lines of him; the corded muscle and smooth skin; the confident, masculine way he held himself. I'd felt all of that tangled up with him, but seeing it was another thing entirely.

He was gorgeous. I already ached thinking about him leaving.

He collapsed on the bed with a tired grin. "For the record, I didn't plan that."

"Well, you definitely didn't come prepared," I teased. I dragged myself on top of him, stretched along the length of his body, and his arms wrapped around my waist.

"I should've been more presumptuous, huh?"

"Mmm," I hummed, placing my ear right above his solidly beating heart. "I like hearing your voice this way much better."

"Yeah?" It vibrated against my ear; I heard the smile in it and when I looked up at him, he was gazing down at me, flashing teeth and dimples. His fingers raked lazily through my hair. "I like being able to touch you much better."

I placed a kiss on his chest, my lips curling up. We were quiet for a moment and his breath steadied out further. I glanced at him again; his eyes were closed, his mouth pulled up into a small, satisfied grin. "Don't fall asleep yet."

He opened one eye. "I'm trying not to, but it's been a long day and you wore me out."

"So much for stamina."

His other eye flew open and he raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge? Because if I wasn't so tired and having you naked on top of me didn't feel so good, I'd punish you with my stamina."

"And when are you planning on doing that? You've got a flight to catch first thing." I kept my voice light, teasing, but deep down I wanted to know how this would work. He was leaving tomorrow morning and I didn't know when he'd be back, or when I'd be in Seattle. I didn't know where we went from here. I still didn't know how we should define this, how we _could _define it.

"I'll be back next month, right after New Year's. I'll make it a long weekend," he said, pausing. "What are you doing for New Year's, anyway?"

"I'll be with my parents that whole week."

"Okay." The disappointment in his voice was obvious and suddenly I was disappointed, too. I'd made my vacation plans months ago, before Emmett and I were where we were now in our relationship. But I knew my mom would be let down if I shortened my trip now; she'd been so excited about the holiday season this year, so full of hope and expectation.

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I didn't know we'd be…"

"Hey, it's okay, really." I looked up at him and he brushed his hand against my cheek. "I know it's important to spend time with your family, especially this year. We'll have our own thing when I come down."

I sighed again, resting my cheek back against his chest, letting myself rise and fall with the cadence of his breath. My eyes grew heavy as he drew lazy circles on my back, leaving little trails of goose bumps as he went, sending little ripples of desire down my spine. "And then what?"

"And then we'll see each other next month, and the month after that. I'll come down here; you can come up to Seattle. We have options." His voice was low, sleepy and his hand moved up to cradle the back of my head, directing me until I was looking at him. His eyes were serious, earnest. His thumb ran over my bottom lip and I kissed the pad. "Rose, I'll see you as often as you want me. I'll do whatever it takes."

My chest tightened. I wanted him all the time, every day, but I couldn't say that. I didn't know what good it would do, because that wasn't possible, not right now, and the distance between us still scared me. But after seeing him with Kate and Garrett, seeing the ease with which he'd woven himself into every aspect of my life and mind and heart, knowing that I had a connection with him like I'd never had with anyone else, the thought of not trying this with him scared me more.

"How often do I want you? What a question," I said finally, teasingly, reaching up to run my fingers through his hair. His mouth pulled up into an affectionate smile. I wriggled up his body, smirking when he groaned and his fingers dug into me, until my lips were lined up with his. "I do want to be with you." Our mouths brushed together with my words. His heart beat heavily against my chest and I felt the corners of his mouth pull up further. "We'll take it slow, okay?"

The irony of my statement wasn't lost on me, considering I was naked on top of him, but he nodded and then we were kissing, our tongues brushing together languidly, hands wandering.

"I like slow," he said when we broke apart. I let out an incoherent noise and he laughed, kissing the tip of my nose. "So does this mean we're going steady? Should I give you my class ring or something?"

I smiled, batting my lashes as I rolled off of him, curling into his side. "I'm much more of a letterman jacket kind of girl, actually."

"Mmm, noted."

We went quiet and I watched the headlights from the cars outside reflect off the ceiling. When I looked over at Emmett, he was grinning, his eyes closed.

"What are you thinking about?"

The grin morphed into a smirk. "You in my letterman jacket."

"Am I naked?"

"Oh, yeah."

I snorted softly and he rolled onto his side so that we were facing, almost nose-to-nose. He pulled the covers up over my shoulders, tucked them under my chin, and placed his hand against my face. His thumb swept over the high plane of my cheekbone, his smile soft.

"'Night, Rose," he murmured. God, that sounded so much better in person. I would be spoiled by it now. I tried not to think about tomorrow night, what it would be like when he wasn't here.

"'Night," I replied, kissing his palm. His hand drifted from my face down to my hip and he left it there. He fell asleep immediately.

For tonight at least, our world only existed like this; we were tangled up in bed, in each other, and when my eyes closed, I could still feel the pressure of his hand against my skin, tangible and real.

* * *

It was dark when Emmett woke me in the morning, slipping into bed as my eyes fluttered open. He wrapped his arm around me from behind and I pressed back into him with a contented, sleepy hum. His skin was hot and damp and he smelled like my shampoo and soap, like mint toothpaste.

"Mmm, you're so warm," he said against my shoulder, kissing up the slope of it until he reached my neck. He kept his mouth there, breathing in deeply. "You smell good, too. Who smells this good first thing in the morning?"

I turned over, letting my hand drift up to trace the contours of his cheek and jaw. He leaned into my touch with a sigh. "Did you know that you snore?"

He touched my bottom lip with his finger. "Did you know that your lips are all puffy first thing in the morning?"

I smiled; I loved discovering these things about him, knowing he was paying attention to the little things, too. He traced the perimeter of my mouth, moving down my neck, circling the hollow of my throat.

My eyes closed, goose bumps erupting everywhere. "Are you trying to seduce me?"

"I don't think there's time for seduction this morning, Miss Hale." His voice took on a note of regret, his fingers making a path back up to twist lightly through my hair. "I have to go in a few minutes."

I almost asked him to stay. The word was on the tip of my tongue, but I knew it was impossible, so I snaked my arms underneath the covers instead, down his taut stomach until I reached the waistband of his boxer briefs. His eyes fluttered closed and then opened, brilliant aquamarine, staring at me with an intensity I felt at the base of my spine.

If he had to leave, I wanted to remember what he felt like. I wanted my touch to burn into his memory, too, for him to feel the same ache I did. I wanted to give us both something to hold onto until January.

"I really only have ten minutes," he said, but his hands had already found the dip between my hips and ribs, a place he seemed to love. His fingers dug in slightly and he pulled me close, giving in so easily. I wondered if he climbed back into bed with the intention of doing this, but it didn't matter, not really. He lifted his hips, letting me undress him, and then he was on top of me, pressed against me.

I burrowed my face into the crook of his neck, breathing in the fresh scent of his skin. "No mouths," I mumbled, conscious of my morning breath as his lips and tongue moved to the sensitive skin under my jaw, then dragged back up to my ear. "God, Em…"

"Say that again," he rasped. "You never call me Em."

I said it again, and again after that. His mouth stayed at my ear and he whispered how much he wanted me, how long he'd been waiting for this, how he'd be thinking about this and me while we were apart, and when I came, it was quieter than last night but equally intense. It spurred him on and he buried his face in my neck when his body stiffened and stilled, shivering when I lightly dragged my fingers along his spine.

We lay in bed for a few more minutes and I waited for my legs to take on a consistency that felt less like Jell-O.

"You're going to make me miss my plane," he sighed into my hair.

"I'm sorry," I said, not sorry at all, but I reluctantly rolled out of bed and pulled him up, too. He sent me toward the bathroom to brush my teeth with a smack to my ass.

By the time we got outside, the sun was rising and Emmett was looking nervously at his watch. He had to stop at the W to pick up his small carry-on in the room he used for five minutes. He'd be cutting it close.

"Come here," he said when a cab stopped at the curb. I stepped into his arms, buried my face in his chest so he wouldn't see that my eyes were suddenly damp. My heart was stuck in my throat and my fingers curled into the fabric of his coat. His voice rumbled against my ear, "I know this sucks."

I nodded, still hiding, but then his hands were on either side of my face, exposing me. He looked down at me for a long moment before pressing his mouth against mine. I gripped the lapels of his coat, letting him deepen the kiss, tasting him. "If I miss my meetings this afternoon because I can't stop kissing you, you're going to have to answer to my boss."

"Hurry up and get out of here, then," I sighed, pushing him lightly, though I wanted to pull him closer. He grinned, a little sadly, backing away. "I hate saying goodbye to you, anyway."

He slid into the back of the cab, but didn't shut the door. His hand wrapped around my wrist and he reeled me closer until I was standing right in front of him, bent down so that our faces were close. His breath came out in long, cloudy streams of air.

"You should do what I do then."

"What's that?"

He placed a finger under my chin, his thumb running along my jaw line. His gaze was fixed on me, holding me in place. "I never say goodbye to you."

I frowned, my eyes searching his face as I thought back to all our conversations, of him dropping me off at the airport in Seattle in September, our café date in October. I remembered 'good night's, 'see you soon's and 'sweet dream's.

I couldn't recall a single 'goodbye.' My throat was suddenly thick and he smiled, seeing the realization cross my face.

"Okay?" he prompted.

I let out a breath, trying it out. "See you soon."

My chest still felt heavy, my throat tight, but it was easier saying that, because it was a promise. It was so much less permanent than goodbye.

Emmett let out a low laugh, his eyes wandering over my face. "That's my girl."

_I am, _I thought, leaning forward impulsively to give him one last lingering kiss. "I'll call you tonight."

I rushed through my morning routine, but I was still late to work. I'd barely had time to sit down in my office and turn on my computer when my phone rang.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

I closed my eyes and breathed deep, that one word attached to that specific voice spreading a bittersweet mixture of excitement and melancholy through my veins.

I missed him so much already.

"What are you doing? Did you miss your plane?"

"No, I'm on it right now," Emmett said, his voice a little hushed. "I just barely made it."

"That's good," I replied and he laughed because he knew I was lying. "I just got in to work."

"A little late this morning, Miss Hale. I wonder why?"

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," I replied demurely, grinning against my thumbnail.

"Well, whatever it was, I hope it was worth it."

I leaned into my phone, looking out my window, and when I opened my mouth to respond, I felt the same rush releasing the words as I had going over that high bar for the first time years ago. "You always are, Em."

I was still staring out the window ten minutes later when a plane drifted slowly across the pale morning sky. It probably wasn't Emmett's, but I still watched it until it was out of sight, remembering the way he looked at me when he didn't say goodbye.

* * *

**A/N: Hmonster4 always makes it better, leaving words of wisdom in my Word docs. LightStarDusting holds my hand and gives her honest opinion. They both helped me tremendously through this chapter. And thank you guys for keeping me going, even when real life is a bitch and it's hard to find time. Your words are so lovely, and I love being able to share this with you all.  
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**I keep saying it (probably because I can't really believe it) but we're getting near the end here. Only three or four chapters left by my estimation. Gah! I'm going to try and keep up this every two week or so update schedule. Here's hoping.  
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**All right, see you soon! :)  
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	22. Ch 21: If You Run

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

* * *

My recent experiences with airports had been overwhelming, to say the least. This time was no different, though my emotional state was much more stable. The last two times I'd been at San Francisco International, I'd been dashing off to Seattle to confront Edward, and then back on solid ground five days later, the landscape of my life completely changed.

No, today I was dealing with turmoil of the external variety. It had taken me nearly forty minutes to get to the front of the never-ending security line bloated with other travelers trying to get to their holiday destinations. I'd been stuck behind a family with a baby that was either colicky or possessed before finally breaking free to pass through the metal detectors.

It felt strange, though, being here without having a major internal realization.

A woman rushed past me with her rolling suitcase, nearly taking off my foot without so much as a backwards glance, and I grabbed my purse and jacket, muttering, "Merry Christmas to you, too."

I wandered around the terminal, stopping at the gift shop to buy water and M&Ms before I parked myself at the gate, facing the window. I fidgeted in the uncomfortable seat for a few minutes before giving up. My tailbone would just have to suffer through it.

Once I'd settled into a bearable position, my hand instinctively reached for my phone in my jacket pocket to call Emmett. I took me a few seconds to remember that he was probably still in the air on his way to Tennessee. I tried not to be disappointed – we'd talked before he boarded hours ago – but my heart twisted with it anyway.

If I thought the distance separating us was agonizing before, it had increased tenfold since he drove away in that cab three weeks ago. Now I knew what it was like to have him here, how it felt to hang out with him and Garrett and Kate, how he looked in my apartment, in my bed. The holes he'd filled were more tangible after he left, and no amount of hours on the phone could make up for being able to touch him, to see the subtle movements of his body or mouth, the crinkle of his eyes when he smiled. I missed all of that viscerally. I ached for him in ways I didn't even know were possible. It was unlike anything I'd felt with anyone, Edward included, and it was just another clue that whispered of how different this was. How different Emmett was.

Still, having him over the phone was better than not having him at all. Though we were far away, I felt closer to Emmett than ever, the foundation of our relationship built and strengthened on endless emails and texts, on conversations that happened in the early morning, on lunch breaks, late at night. We'd even managed a movie date, making it a Tarantino night with _Pulp Fiction _and _Kill Bill_. I'd curled up on the couch with my blanket, a glass of red and my phone. I'd recited key lines with Emmett, imagining him stretched out on his couch with his glasses on and a beer resting on his chest. The visual had kept my heart thumping against my ribs and a grin curled on my lips.

A few days ago, I'd almost told him I loved him. We'd both been out Christmas shopping, keeping each other company via phone while we navigated the crowds. I was getting increasingly irritated with the long lines and with myself for waiting until the last minute to buy gifts, but he kept me talking, kept me sane and laughing with stupid jokes and silly observations.

It had just slipped out, the first two of three words that had been growing inside of me. I hadn't even thought about it. My mind was too occupied thinking of how easily he was able to pull me back from foul moods, imagining his smile and how his cheeks and ears were probably pink with cold.

I'd recovered at the last minute, stumbling after "I love" and tacking on "this scarf" quickly. God, I'd wanted so badly to say "you," but it seemed ridiculous to blurt it out in the middle of a department store with people everywhere and loathsome Christmas music ringing in my ears. It didn't feel intimate, felt not quite right. And truthfully, the thought of telling him I loved him was slightly terrifying, too much for me in that moment, so I'd stopped myself right at the edge of that cliff, afraid to go over.

Oh, but I already had, at least secretly; I _was_ in love with him. He'd made it so easy, so effortless to fall. But it was one thing to admit it to myself. Admitting it to him would require a level of vulnerability that I'd never shown before, to anyone. It was a massive step, particularly huge given that our relationship had the added challenge of hundreds of miles of distance separating us.

It also felt like the proverbial elephant in the room, and I wasn't sure if it was because I was so aware of the fact that I wasn't saying it or if in fact it was something we _both _weren't saying. There had been a few long pauses during phone calls, when the silence would have been easily filled by those words. The thought of hearing it from him made my spine quiver. I wanted it, and him, all of him, but I couldn't seem to move past the fear.

My phone rang and my heart jumped with my body. A familiar name and number flashed on the screen and I frowned, putting the phone up to my ear. "Jasper?"

"Rose?"

"What are you doing?" I asked, confused. Jasper rarely called me. He rarely had to, since Alice and I talked every few days and she inevitably passed the phone over to him while she took care of whatever she was in the middle of at the time.

"Well, I _think_ I'm calling you," he said, sounding both perplexed and amused.

"Which brings us back to my first question. You never call me."

"True," he mused. "But I'm out shopping and I need some company."

"You're out shopping two days before Christmas?" I asked incredulously. "_Alone_?"

"Yeah, and it's as fun as it sounds. I almost got trampled by a pack of wild-eyed dudes with Victoria's Secret bags. I'm barely escaping with my life here."

"What possessed you to brave the wild frontier that is last-minute Christmas shopping?" I held up my hand in warning, even though I knew he couldn't see it. "And please don't tell me you forgot to get Alice a present."

"Actually, that's why I'm calling."

"You forgot to get her a present? _Really_, Jasper?"

"Shit, is that really all you think of me, Barb?" He sounded indignant, playfully wounded, and I rolled my eyes. "I'll have you know I've been working on her present for nearly a month. It just happened to be ready today, which is a good thing since we're leaving for her parents' house in an hour." I could almost hear the grin on his face as he paused dramatically. "You want to know what it is?"

"What, am I the seal of approval or something?"

He laughed. "Something like that."

"Okay, the suspense is killing me," I said, only half-joking. I looked out the window at the sky, dark with clouds that looked ready to burst. "What did you get her?"

"A ring."

It took a few seconds for what he said to sink in, but as soon as it did, goose bumps blossomed on my skin. I was suddenly grateful for the chair holding me, uncomfortable though it was. "Jasper," I breathed, pressing my fingers against the hollow of my throat where my breath had caught. "That's…"

"Unexpected? Out of left field? So unlike me?"

"D, all of the above, but also E, amazing." I leaned back in my seat, my hand pressed to my forehead. "How? When? I mean, last time we talked about it, you were still so spooked about the idea."

He let out a sigh. "I was, but I meant what I said. I want this for both of us, Rose. I mean, I'm more in love with her now than I was ten years ago. She's it for me."

"You always knew that, though, Jasper. What changed your mind about marriage?"

"Oh, I don't know, a lot of things. Edward and Bella's wedding and our talk gave me much-needed clarity." He hummed thoughtfully. "I guess I fully made up my mind when we went to my mom's for Thanksgiving. She was…she made everything okay, you know?"

I nodded, remembering my brief phone call with Alice. "She mentioned that you were being clingy."

"She said I was being clingy?" His tone was dubious.

"Well, she said affectionate," I conceded. "I'm taking some creative license."

He snorted. "Hey, you're a real sweetheart, you know that?"

"I've been told," I replied with a smile. "So tell me what happened at Thanksgiving to spur your epiphany."

"I'm sure she told you it was a shit-storm, right?" I _mmhmm_ed in acknowledgement and he cleared his throat, pausing for a moment. I wondered if it was painful for him to think about how his parents were constantly pulling at him, if it ever got exhausting. "Well, I started getting worked up about it. My dad called me right when we got to my mom's house, and it wasn't like he said anything specific beyond a few passive-aggressive comments. It was more the tone of his voice, you know? Like he was disappointed in me or something."

"Jasper, that's not your fault."

"I know. I know they're just mad at each other. It isn't about me, as much as I get caught in the middle of all that bullshit." He took a deep breath, and I did, too. He'd never really talked about this, at least not with me, and I could feel the weight of it. "I saw what they did to each other, Rose, and it scared the shit out of me for a really long time. But they're not us, and I think I finally figured out that not trying would be worse than making the leap and failing."

"You want to be brave," I said, thinking of Emmett, wishing I had the courage to tell him how I really felt.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "I know there'll be bumps in the road, but when that stuff happens, I want Alice to be there with me."

I pressed my fingers against my chest, right above my heart. "She will be," I said with conviction, knowing it was true, that wherever life took them they'd be side by side.

"She'll say yes, right?"

"How big is the ring?" He tsked and I rolled my eyes with a smile. "C'mon, Jazz. Of course she'll say yes."

"No, I know she will. It's still fucking nerve-wracking. Do you know what it's like for a guy to get down on his knee and ask a girl to marry him?"

"Uh, no, and last time I checked neither do you."

"Well, I've visualized it and let me tell you, I'm sweating just thinking about it."

I curled my legs up underneath me, leaning my elbow on the armrest. Jesus, these seats were so uncomfortable. "So, when are you proposing?"

"I don't know, sometime between Christmas and New Year's. Hopefully when she least expects it."

"Yeah, I think you've taken care of the expecting part. She'll probably drop dead from shock as soon as you get on your knee."

"Ha, ha," he said dryly. "That's fine, get it all out before the big speech at our wedding."

"Wow, you _are _ready for this. You said 'wedding' without choking on the word." I sat up straight suddenly, my eyes narrowing. Jasper must have shared the good news with Emmett, who hadn't breathed one word to me. I was irrationally annoyed at his Fort Knox secret-keeping skills. "Speaking of which, I can't believe Emmett didn't tell me you bought Alice a ring. What a bastard."

He was quiet on the other end of the line, and then, "Rose, no one else knows."

I was busy plotting the amount of shit I was going to give Emmett for keeping this from me, but his statement stopped me short. "What?"

He let out a little laugh, amused by my confusion. "You're the first person I've told. I haven't even asked her parents for their blessing yet, which will reach another level of terror sweats."

I was silent for a few moments and he went quiet, too, letting me take it in. Somehow, in his special Jasper way, he knew that me being the first to know meant more than I could put into words. I couldn't even articulate to myself. Was it because I'd been the last to know for Edward and Bella's wedding? Because Alice was my best friend and the thought of her finally getting this made my chest tighten with emotion? Maybe.

Or maybe it was just that I felt privileged that Jasper trusted me with this information, that he wanted me to be the first to share in his excitement. Maybe it was that he knew that _I_ knew how big this was for him, that he knew I'd be proud of him for taking a chance despite being scared.

"Jasper, I don't even…" I finally choked out, but it was all my throat would allow.

"You don't _have_ to even," he teased, but his tone was earnest. "You're Alice's best friend and I know she'd want you to be the first to know. It was important for me, too, Barb."

"Well." I faltered, smoothed down an invisible wrinkle in my jeans and looked out the window before continuing, trying to control my emotions. A single tear snuck out of the corner of my eye and I caught it with the tip of my finger. "Thank you. That means…it means a lot, Jazz."

"Hey, don't ever say I didn't give you anything," he joked affectionately. "Speaking of, what do you think old Saint McCarty got you for Christmas?"

"He's giving me a long weekend in couple weeks." We'd agreed not to do presents this year. Though neither of us said it out loud, I knew there was really nothing we wanted more than time with one another.

"I bet that's not all he's giving you," he drawled, then sang out porn music for good measure.

"Real nice, Jasper. Way to end a touching conversation."

"It's still touching," he argued, voice thick from holding back his laughter. "Just a different kind."

I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh myself, but it slipped out anyway. "You're ridiculous."

"Hey, all joking aside, I'm really happy for you, Barb," he said, his voice weighted with sincerity. "This whole thing between you two has been a long time coming."

"I could say the same for you and Alice."

He laughed. "We're both being brave then, huh?"

The seat was, if possible, even more uncomfortable suddenly and I shifted, thinking of our conversation in the parking lot of Forks Hotel. I didn't feel so brave right now, despite the fact that I'd come so far, both on my own and with Emmett, since that day. "Yeah, I guess we are."

After we disconnected with promises of talking soon, I looked back out the window to see my plane taxiing into the gate, its red lights flashing brightly against the gray sky like a heartbeat.

My thoughts circled back to this past September. In my own way, I'd been brave then, putting aside my pride and anger to see Edward, both of us finding the courage to mend our friendship. I'd seen him marry Bella and close a painful chapter in our lives together. I'd shown the first sparks of it with Emmett, too, when I'd gone back and kissed him.

Jasper's call was swirling up a riot of emotions inside of my chest and stomach. I wanted to be brave like that, to face fear in the name of love. I knew I had it in me. I just wasn't sure what it would take to get me there.

A voice came over the loudspeaker to announce the pre-boarding for my flight and I stood, gathering my things. My eyes darted back to the flashing lights on the tips of the wings one last time and I shook my head, a mirthless smile pulling at the corners of my mouth.

It looked like I wasn't going to get out of here without some kind of internal confusion after all.

* * *

Growing up, Christmas Day at the Hale house was all about tradition.

My day would begin before the sun rose. I'd wake up, heart pounding, and run to my parents' room. I wouldn't jump on the bed or announce myself like any other self-respecting child amped up at the thought of presents waiting for them. Instead, I would stand on my mom's side of the bed and silently tap her arm or her leg until she woke up, shifting from foot to foot impatiently. She and my dad would send me back to bed and I'd stare at my ceiling, arms crossed, until the first light of morning showed itself in muted grays. I'd hear them milling around in the living room and once the strains of my dad's beloved jazz music perked my ears, I'd be up and out of bed, skidding down the hall in my socks.

After I'd torn open my presents, we'd migrate into the kitchen, where my dad would tease my mom about her terrible cooking skills while helping her make pancakes and bacon. I'd be at the table, playing with my latest Barbie or Cabbage Patch Kid, and would inevitably get maple syrup in her hair or on an arm or leg because I couldn't bear to part with her. The rest of the day would be slow and lazy, filled with movies and the warmth of our fireplace and my mom's embrace. Our night would end with Miles Davis' _Kind of Blue _and a couple raucous rounds of whatever board game my dad thought he could beat my mom and me at.

As I got older, my parents became the ones to wake me up and toys were replaced with clothes, music and electronics. The magic of Christmas was different as an adult, muted like winter mornings, but no matter how old I was, we were forever tied to our traditions. I couldn't hear jazz music without thinking of pine trees and twinkling lights, without smelling maple syrup and hearing the crackling of firewood.

I was thinking about Christmas in Forks now as I walked down the hall to the guest room that acted as my room when I visited. This was the first year we were implementing the usual Hale traditions in their new home, and I was feeling nostalgic about our old one. It felt different here, but I reminded myself to be grateful that we were having Christmas at all. In reality, I had so much to be grateful for, even beyond having my family in tact, happy and healthy.

It was a little after nine and my mom was bailing on Go Fish to get some much-needed rest. Doing nothing all day was surprisingly taxing and even I was feeling the pull of sleep. But tradition is tradition, so instead I changed into cotton pajama bottoms and a t-shirt, fishing my phone out of the pocket of my jeans and tossing it on the bed so I could pull my hair back.

It rang just as I'd wrapped the rubber band around my ponytail and I practically pounced on it, fumbling with the send key before bringing it to my ear.

"It's about time," I huffed, flopping onto the bed and curling up with a pillow.

"Missed me, huh?" I closed my eyes at the sound of Emmett's voice, which was low and tired with the hint of an accent I'd noticed he picked up when he went home.

"Actually, I was wondering when you'd find time in your busy schedule to call me."

"Excuse you, I called this morning," he shot back.

"For ten seconds," I replied, remembering his call this morning when he'd wished me a merry Christmas. The only reason I hadn't killed him for calling me at five was because he'd sounded sexy all half asleep, murmuring that he missed me. I could feel the warmth of his body through the phone and my chest had started that familiar ache, spreading down into my stomach like a slow fire.

"All right, put the claws away." He sounded amused at my irritation, though he had to know it was mostly show. I was all talk when it came to him. "This is the first time I've been alone since I woke up and I sure as hell wasn't going to call with everyone around. I was getting the third degree about you."

My eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

"My mom dropped the girlfriend bomb and I got fucking pounced on. So, by the way, you're going to have to come out here at some point so my five hundred family members can meet you."

I grinned up at the ceiling, ridiculously giddy at his mention of 'girlfriend.' "You mean so you can show me off?"

"Damn straight," he replied, a husky sound that was mostly teasing but edged in self-satisfaction. "I'll have to keep a close eye on you, though. Grandpa seemed a little too interested. He might steal you away."

"Oh, I'm not sure anyone could steal me away," I said coyly. "Unless you've got a hot cousin or something."

He let out an offended huff. "Not cool, Hale."

I laughed and he did, too. God, I loved the sound our mingling laughter made. Sometimes I wondered if he did, too, if that was why he made me do it so often. I traced a delicate thread on the white bedspread. My dad was waiting for me, but I was finding it hard to wrap this up. "I do miss you, you know."

"The feeling is more than mutual." His voice went low. "I'm going crazy here, Rose, you know that?"

"I know," I sighed, mirroring his obvious frustration. "Eleven more days?"

"Eleven days and then I'm in your bed for four."

"Four straight days in bed?" I echoed thoughtfully, running my teeth across my bottom lip.

"Yes, and I'm enacting a strict no clothes policy."

I pressed my face into my pillow with a low groan. "Don't start what we can't finish, please. I have to go play Go Fish with my dad and I'd rather not be thinking about having sex with you."

There was a short pause. "Is that what you're thinking about?"

"It is now!"

He laughed – god, I would never get tired of that sound – and I whimpered dramatically. "Okay, okay, just one more question."

"Ugh, fine."

"What are you wearing?"

"_Emmett_," I hissed, hitting the bed with my palm. "Take a hint."

"You're so easy to wind up." I could almost see the deepening of his dimples. My fingers twitched, wanting to make a path along the divots on either side of his mouth, wanting to kiss him despite how infuriating he was. "You know you love it."

_I love _you, I silently corrected and my mouth started to form the words, but I clamped down on my lip. The ache in my chest expanded from holding back, pressing uncomfortably against my ribs.

"Mmhmm. Call me in the morning?" My request was unnecessary, because one of us always did, but I said it anyway.

"I can't start my day right if I don't."

"The feeling is more than mutual," I replied lightly. He let out a slow, sleepy laugh and I smiled against the small piece of plastic that kept us anchored to one another, in spirit if not in body. "'Night, Em."

"'Night, babe."

I lay in bed for a few minutes, too heavy with longing to move. Every day, every conversation made this more difficult. Now that I'd opened myself up to it, I viscerally understood how strong my connection with Emmett was. The distance only intensified it, stretched me like a live wire across state lines.

I finally rolled off the bed with a groan, setting my phone on the nightstand, then reluctantly padded out into the living room where my dad sat on the couch, shuffling a deck of cards. He raised an eyebrow as I sat on the other end and I arched mine in challenge, waiting for him to say something. I doubted he'd overheard my conversation with Emmett, not with the music playing, but by the look on his face, he knew what took me so long to get out here.

"So, Emmett," he finally said, handing me my cards.

I grabbed them and fanned them out in front of me, studying them. "I know you always wanted a son, Dad, but the name's Rosalie."

"I rue the day you discovered sarcasm."

"Who, me? I'm an angel."

He reached over and tapped the air above my head, like he was straightening a halo. I smiled, shaking my head, and he winked. "Of course you are, you're my daughter."

I appraised my cards with pursed lips. "Do you have any threes?"

"Go fish." I reached for the stack, grumbling to myself. "Are you two serious?"

I stuck the nine I'd just pulled with its partner. "It's…complicated. He lives in a different state, Dad. We're taking it slow."

He blinked at me, an invisible question mark floating above his head. "What does 'taking it slow' mean? I don't understand the lingo these days. You're either dating or you're not."

"We're dating. We're just slow dating." I didn't even sound convincing to myself and his face was as dubious as my voice.

"What is slow dating compared to fast dating?" He held up his hands before I could speak, one eyebrow going up. "Please give me the PG version."

I shuddered dramatically. "Ugh, Dad."

He looked down at his cards with an equally dramatic grimace. "Do you have any kings?"

I handed him three kings, nostrils flared. "You are such a cheater."

He chuckled, placing the full set of kings on the table face-up. "Same old song and dance. You know I don't have to cheat to win, kiddo. I've been around the block a few times."

"Set yourself up for old man jokes, why don't you?"

He gave me his patented parental warning look. "Any fives?"

"Go fish," I said with a beatific smile.

"So." He straightened his cards, then looked back at me. "Do I need to be worried about this thing you've got with Emmett? I remember him being a nice kid, but I don't want him yanking you around."

"Dad, c'mon," I replied, my voice turning plaintive and whiny in the way only parents were able to evoke. "It's not like that. It's just…" I bit my lip, trying to find my words.

He stayed quiet, organizing his cards, his eyes darting up to me every once in a while. Miles Davis wailed away in the background and I was reminded of so many nights that looked like this, though the setting was different. We'd taken up cards, and especially Go Fish, in the first few weeks after my mom's accident. I'd taken that first week off work and then flew home every weekend after. My dad and I would be exhausted, him more so because he lived it twenty-four hours a day, so we'd use the games to unwind, to escape the reality of what we were facing for a little while. We'd sit in the waiting room or the cafeteria, talking about nothing. Somehow it would always meander into discussion about how he and my mom met, what their first date had been, stories about me when I was a baby. They were always happy stories, but he told them with the weight of the world on his shoulders, because the woman he'd chosen to share his life with, the woman he _had _shared his life with for the past twenty-eight years, was broken. He was broken, too, though he tried not to show it. In a way, we all had been, me as much from what happened with Edward as what had happened with my mom.

Maybe that was what terrified me so much about love; that it could hurt you even as it healed and saved you. I thought about what my parents had gone through over the past year, what they'd fought through, the physical agony that my mom endured and the emotional pain that my dad bore watching her, helping her, staying through it all.

There would always be good and bad, ups and downs, and I knew, I _knew _that Emmett was worth loving, but I was scared of our future even though I craved it. I needed it, and him, and I was realizing that there was nothing more terrifying and incredible than needing another person the way I did Emmett.

"I'm nervous, I guess," I said, trying to sound more casual than I felt. "Of falling."

"It's not the falling that's scary, sweetheart," he replied. "It's the staying. But that's also the best part."

I pulled my knees up, propping my chin on them. "What do you mean?"

He set his cards down in his lap, rubbing at his chin. It was a sure sign that he was mulling; he used to do the same thing when he was helping me with my Calc homework, would do it when my mom asked him to hang a picture and would stand behind him, directing him a little to the left, no, his _other _left. "Falling in love with your mom was easy. But staying in love? That's the hard work. You're never going to have perfect, so if that's what you're looking for, give it up now. There's always going to be something. It could be small and inconsequential. It could be having to date long distance for a while, or it could be…"

"A car accident," I said quietly.

He nodded slowly, then placed a hand over mine. "And you just have to work through it. But you have to be fully invested in it, Rosalie, no matter what happens or _could _happen. I never gave up on your mom after her accident, but I had to accept that as hard as I was fighting for her, as hard as she was fighting for herself and for us, maybe twenty-eight years was all I was going to have with her." His Adam's apple bobbed up and down. "It turned out well for us, but it could've been different. And it was still difficult."

"Would it have still been worth it, Dad? Even if she'd…"

"Of course," he said, looking at me like I was slightly insane, and maybe I was, but I needed to know. "Twenty-eight years with Lillian Hale would have been better than a lifetime with anyone else." He nudged my foot. "Plus, we got you to sweeten the deal."

"I do sweeten it, don't I?" I shot him a slightly shaky smile and he winked, then picked up his cards and gazed down at them thoughtfully before fixing me with a solemn stare.

"Now, for the serious stuff. Do you have any twos?"

"Go fish," I replied, letting out a long, cleansing breath.

He picked up a card. "You've always been like this, you know."

"Like what?" I glanced up at him and gestured to his cards with my own. "You got any threes in there?"

He handed me two cards. "A fact-gatherer. You were always looking for proof and concrete answers. And then you'd do what you wanted to anyway."

I snorted and laid down my four threes in a neat pile in front of me. "I don't think there's anything wrong with making informed decisions."

"There's also nothing wrong with trusting your instincts." I looked up at him, eyes narrowed, and he held up his hand. "Okay, meddling dad moment over. I just like seeing you happy is all."

"I _am _happy."

"I know," he said pointedly.

We played two more rounds, him winning each easily, and I pretended to be irritated. Truthfully, I reveled in this ritual of ours, whether I won or not. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and padded off to bed, leaving him in the living room staring off into space with a small, contented smile on his face.

I climbed into bed, checking my phone just in case. It was after one in Tennessee, though, so I wasn't surprised to see that I didn't have any missed calls or texts. I set the phone back on the nightstand and pulled the comforter up to my chin. And just as tradition had dictated Christmas after Christmas, my thoughts were set to the soundtrack of my dad's jazz, this time "In a Sentimental Mood." But I wasn't thinking about which Barbies I'd be bringing to Alice's house to play with the next morning or planning my outfit for Lauren Mallory's New Year's Eve bash.

I was thinking about courage, about risk and reward, about Emmett.

Tonight there was a voice that tugged at my heart, silently asking me to make that final leap. To not just fall in love, because that was already done, but to stay in it, and to ask Emmett to stay with me, too, no matter what happened around us, to us. It was a voice that had been there for months, but since my phone call with Jasper, and particularly after my talk with my dad tonight, it was as loud as the pounding of my heart in my ears. I'd been pushing it to the back of my mind, but I wasn't sure how much longer I could hold it off.

And in this moment, lying in this darkness, I wasn't sure I wanted to anymore.

* * *

I'd been in Phoenix for five days. Five _long _days.

I loved my parents, I did, but I had to wonder as my dad pulled into the driveway after dinner and a movie what the hell I was thinking staying here until January 1st. I was insanely jealous that Emmett was in the air on his way back to Seattle. I missed my apartment and my bed, my city. I missed being able to talk to Emmett without worrying that my parents could overhear our conversation. As much as I enjoyed spending time with them, I was ready to go. The next four days were going to stretch on endlessly.

"Looks like someone got a belated Christmas present," my dad said as we made our way to the front door. He nudged at a box decorated with red priority stickers, then bent down with an exaggerated groan to pick it up, squinting at the label. His gaze moved to me and he grinned. "It's for you, kiddo, from Tennessee."

"What! We weren't supposed to get each other presents," I exclaimed, my pulse jumping as I peeked around his arm. Sure enough, I recognized Emmett's handwriting on the FedEx slip. Goose bumps rose on my scalp and I snatched the box out of his hands. It was heavy and a little unwieldy. I had absolutely no idea what it could be. An effervescent feeling of anticipation rushed up my spine, spreading through my chest.

The smell of Chanel No. 5 and the weight of my mom's arm wrapped around me and I looked sideways at her, my mouth twisted up into a stupid grin. "That's so sweet of him. Honey, unlock the door so Rose can open her gift."

"Are you going to open it in front of the tree so we can take pictures?" he teased, unlocking the door and swinging it open. I elbowed him in the stomach as I swept past and I heard a light smack and then his indignant, "What'd I do?"

"Just be quiet and pour me a glass of wine, old man," she replied. I stopped at the entrance of the hallway and glanced over my shoulder at them, the box cradled against my chest. My dad had his arm around my mom's shoulders and hers was around his waist. They were leaning into one another, supporting each other, and he bent down to kiss her forehead. It was fast, but his eyes closed, like he was savoring the moment. I smiled to myself and then turned, made my way down the dark hallway to my room.

I set the box on the bed and sat cross-legged in front of it, traced the letters of Emmett's name on the packing slip, my heart beating hard but steadily. I picked at the edge of the tape until it gave way, slowly peeling it away. When I opened the flaps and peeked inside, my breath caught and I pressed my hand against my mouth. Forks High School's familiar blue and yellow stared up at me and I rested my elbow against the edge of the box, brushing my fingers against the fabric.

Folded neatly inside this box was Emmett's letterman jacket. My heart twisted and stuttered as I pulled it out, folded myself inside of it. I brought the collar up to my cheek and breathed in, eyed closed. It was cold from sitting outside, but I swore I could feel the warmth of him in it, enveloping me.

I ran my hands over leather and wool until I reached the pockets. I didn't expect to find anything, so I was surprised when my fingers closed around a folded-up piece of paper. I pulled it out and opened it up, my bottom lip caught between my teeth.

It was a note, written on college-ruled paper, the three holes in the left-hand margin authentically torn like it had been ripped out of a binder. My hand went back to my face as I read.

_Rose,_

_You said you were more of a letterman girl. This is yours now. _

_Turns out I am, too. _

_Em _

_P.S. Want to make out behind the bleachers after school? _

A hot tear ran down my cheek and I brushed it away, laughing at the boxes he drew that had _yes, no, maybe_ written underneath in block lettering. I read the note three more times, always lingering on the third sentence, before folding it back up and pressing it against my chest, like I could somehow absorb the words.

And suddenly, I understood, fundamentally, down to every individual cell in my body, what Jasper was saying when he told me that not trying would be worse than failing. I knew what my dad meant when he said that twenty-eight years with my mom would have been better than none at all.

Because taking the leap was better than standing at the edge and watching it pass you by. It was better to risk your heart than to never know what it felt like to really love, to really live.

I _was_ ready to go, but it wasn't home I wanted to get on the plane to. It was Emmett.

The voice returned, stronger now, confident. And there was no question in it. Instead, it whispered a simple command.

_Go_.

* * *

**A/N: Hi. I'm very sheepish because this took a long time. Next chapter will be up much quicker, promise.**

**We've been doing this for a while, but it always bears repeating: hmonster4 has helped me every chapter, with every word. She is pretty much just beyond-words awesome. LightStarDusting pre-read and gave me love. She's very awesome, too.  
**

**Ah, you guys. This story is almost done. I have one more chapter and then an epilogue. I don't know what to say now, so I guess I'll save that for later. Thank you all for being so good to me. **

**See you soon. :)  
**


	23. Ch 22: Real Love

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.**

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I stood in front of Emmett's apartment building, my heart beating a surprisingly steady rhythm considering I was about to give it to him completely.

It was frigid outside. Even the sun looked cold, its frosty morning rays stretching over the tall building in front of me. My breath danced just beyond my wandering gaze in sharp clouds, fanning out into the still air before disappearing. I was wrapped up in the letterman jacket, its comforting weight shielding me from the winter chill. The sky was a crisp, clear blue and it reminded me of the post-hatched robins' eggs I used to find in my backyard, of the incessant buzz of new life chirping above when I'd collect the shells to line up along my windowsill. I'd wanted to remember what a clear sky looked like during the months Forks was shrouded in misty dampness. Sometimes those eggshells were the only thing that reminded me we would eventually see the sky again.

I bit my lip and pulled my phone out of my pocket. My fingers brushed against the edge of his note and I smiled, tucking it further down for safekeeping.

We hadn't talked since before Emmett boarded his plane in Tennessee and I was aching to hear his voice. After I opened his present last night, I called him, silent tears chasing one another down my face. It'd gone straight to voicemail and I hadn't known what to say beyond "I love you" so I hung up, wiping my face with the collar of his jacket.

If my parents were disappointed when I announced that I needed to catch the next flight up to Seattle, they didn't show it, though I still felt a pang of guilt telling them. Their surprise, on the other hand, was obvious. I'd walked in, tear-stained but smiling and wrapped up in that jacket, his note clutched in my hand. They must have known somehow that this hadn't been just a Christmas present, even if they didn't know the story behind it. It was an outstretched hand, a not-so-secret message, the subtle nudge I'd needed to understand that though I'd fallen, he'd done it with me.

They'd helped me change my flight without asking. It was late by that point and there weren't any flights going out until the morning, so we'd booked the first one available. I'd tried not to be irritated, but it had felt like another obstacle that stood between us, between what I wanted to say and hear from him.

But then my parents had wrapped me up in their arms, silent pillars of love and understanding and parental omniscience, because they understood that their little girl had grown up and fallen in love, and my irritation turned to gratitude. I would have to wait a little longer for Emmett, but I couldn't think of a better place to be while I did.

When I fell into bed and checked my phone, I had two missed calls and a voicemail from Emmett. My heart squeezed with longing and impatience while I listened to him say that he'd landed safely and that Alice and Jasper had picked him up. They were going to grab a few drinks at a place near his apartment. He'd murmured that he missed me, his voice almost too low to hear, though by the sound of Alice and Jasper's catcalls they'd heard it loud and clear. I'd called him back, but got voicemail again, and had fallen asleep frustrated, wanting to at least hear his voice, to be connected with him in some way.

Still, I slept like a rock, jolting awake this morning at 4:15. I'd slept right through my first alarm, and also through a call from Emmett at 1:49. A few drinks must have turned into an entire night. I spent my time getting ready thinking about him, knowing I'd see him in a matter of hours. I wanted to call him back but it was an ungodly hour, still pitch black and silent outside, so instead I'd finished getting ready and zipped up my suitcase before rolling it into the foyer. My parents had been waiting there and we said good morning in hushed tones and then we'd been off, driving toward the airport with the heat blasting and the cold leather seeping through my jeans.

The plane ride had been painful. For three hours I'd sat there, my knee bobbing up and down. I'd counted down the minutes, looking at my watch obsessively. I drank two glasses of sparkling water, crunched maniacally on every ice cube in the cup until the suit sitting next to me gave me the side eye, before I finally managed to still my body. I'd looked out the window, trying to find shapes in the clouds like I'd done when I was a kid, but it had barely distracted me. I'd felt like I was so close to the finish line, but all I could do was watch it from a distance.

I just wanted to get to Emmett. I wanted to see him and touch him and tell him and hear it from him, too. I didn't want it to live inside of me anymore. I wanted it to be something that was alive between us, something that kept us bound tightly even when we were apart. Something that made us even more solid, fully realized and permanent.

I'd practically leapt out of the cab when it stopped at the corner of a cute, tree-lined street in Belltown. Emmett had moved into the apartment a little over a year ago, so I hadn't seen it, but as I dragged my suitcase out of the trunk, I looked around, cataloging everything – the well-kept buildings, the awning that covered the front door of a small grocery store half a block away, the quaint park across the street, a brightly-colored jungle gym sitting in the middle of it. I'd memorized all of it, wanting to visualize his home when we weren't together.

A horn honking brought me back to the present and the task at hand. I ran my fingers over the key that had Emmett's number programmed. My heart skipped a beat, gently reminding me that this was important.

Suddenly it didn't feel like the finish line, but rather the start. So much had happened to get me here; so many moments and decisions had set the foundation for this, right now. All of the heartache I'd gone through with my mom's accident, with Edward and the wedding, with distancing myself from Alice and Jasper and Emmett, felt like necessary milestones on the path that had led right back to them. To him. Before I'd gone to Forks in September, I'd hoped to come out on the other side of this with my heart in one piece. Now I realized that not only had it survived, it had been renewed. This had changed me.

I took a deep breath. I knew telling Emmett that I loved him would change me, too, would change us. I'd only said I love you to two other men, though Tyler had been just a boy when I said it to him after he'd stuck his tongue down my throat (it'd seemed appropriate in my thirteen-year-old mind at the time). But they'd never meant what they did now. In the first instance, it was what I thought I should say. In the second, with Edward, it was what I thought I should feel, because I'd misunderstood the way I loved him.

God, but I understood what it meant now. This wasn't about loss or obligation or fear. As I pressed my finger on the send key and heard the steady ringing in my ear, I understood that when said to the right person, 'I love you' was a promise.

Emmett picked up. There was a rustling sound and then a low curse before he came on the line, sounding gruff. "'Lo?"

His voice set every part of me in motion; my eyes closed as my lips pulled up into a smile; my fingers curled around the phone; all of the breath escaped out of my lungs and I exhaled, "Em?"

"Hey, you," he mumbled, his tone warming.

"Rough night?"

"Mmm," he yawned. "Beer and jet lag don't mix."

I looked up at the sky, which was almost violet now, vibrant. The sun warmed my cold cheeks. "So that was a drunk dial I missed at two in the morning?"

He laughed, low and gravelly. "Kind of."

"Kind of?"

"I was a little drunk, but I also hadn't talked to you all day. So it wasn't a drunk dial as much as a want-to-hear-your-voice dial."

"Or a miss-you dial," I suggested, wanting to hear it.

"It was definitely a miss-you dial," he confirmed and my heart pounded out a victorious beat.

"And do you miss me this morning?" I looked up. He was somewhere above me, sprawled out in bed, completely oblivious to the fact that I was only hundreds of feet away instead of hundreds of miles, and I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw me. God, I just couldn't wait to be with him.

"You know I do," he drew out, all slow, sweet molasses, and I could feel how much he did. I always could. "What are you doing?"

My eyes searched every window, as if I could see where he was. "I have a present for you."

"A present?"

"Yes, and I want you to go downstairs and get it right now."

"How do you know it's there?"

"Because I tracked it." I smirked at the lie, shifting from foot to foot impatiently. "Just do it, okay? And call me back when you get it."

He mumbled something about "bossy" and "freezing" and "really sleepy," but I heard him heave himself out of bed before he hung up. My heart was racing now and I stuck the phone back in my pocket.

I waited for what felt like forever. Then again, in a way I'd been waiting forever for this. These minutes were nothing.

I watched the front door, stood there with my fingers and nose and ears going numb until finally I saw a tall shadow on the other side of the glass and the door opened and he was there. He was rumpled and gorgeous, wearing basketball shorts and an old hooded UW sweatshirt, still stuffing his feet into running shoes. His glasses were a little crooked, his jaw dark with stubble, his hair wild.

He squinted into the sun, looking around for a second before his eyes met mine. His eyes narrowed further, confused, and then widened. When his mouth pulled into an incredulous, beautiful smile, I was in motion. He met me halfway and I threw myself into his arms, burying my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling him. His arms wrapped tightly around me and he brought me closer until my feet were off the ground. I could feel his heart slamming against his chest and my throat tightened knowing I had the same effect on him that he did on me. I'd never had that before, had never been the cause of someone's happiness in this way, and it was powerful, overwhelming. I had no fear of showing him my heart because he'd just shown me his.

His hand cradled the back of my head, pulling me to him until his lips found mine. I sighed against his mouth, pressed into him and tasted mint and him and Jesus, I missed this. My fingers found their rightful place in the hair at the nape of his warm neck immediately, my heart beating out a rhythm that was only for him.

When things turned the corner to inappropriate for public consumption, we both pulled away, breathless and smiling and wound around one another.

"Hi," he said, his lips grazing mine.

"Hi yourself."

"Damn, you feel good." The statement rumbled through his chest. It vibrated through me, twisted around my spine. "What are you doing here?"

I pulled away reluctantly and his eyes darted over my face, searching for an answer but also taking me in. His gaze went lower and he grinned when he saw the letterman jacket, understanding dawning in his eyes.

"I got your present." I intertwined my fingers through his and his thumb brushed cold, sensitive skin, leaving a hot trail in its wake.

"I see that. You flew all the way up here to tell me you got my present?" he asked, eyebrow quirked. I raised mine back in challenge. "Hey, don't get me wrong, I don't mind."

"Oh, good," I teased and his grin widened, revealing those perfect, deep dimples, before they disappeared as he gave me a stern look. Or what was supposed to be a stern look. With the glasses, he kind of looked like a sexy librarian. He had forever changed my outlook on eyewear, not that I should have been surprised. He'd changed so many things.

"You did just completely overshadow my gesture, though."

"What?" I exclaimed. "How did I overshadow it?"

"You show up at my front door in my letterman jacket – not naked, but I'll forgive you for that –"

"That's very generous."

" – When you're _supposed_ to be in Phoenix." He squinted at me. "I gave you a jacket for Christmas and you give me you? That's a little uneven."

"It's not _just _a jacket, Em. And you weren't supposed to get me anything," I reminded him.

He waved his hand in the air dismissively. "Let's focus on the important thing here."

"Which is?"

His expression went stern again and the backs of my knees tingled. "You made a spectacle."

"I didn't make a spectacle," I said, my mouth twitching.

"You did," he insisted. The sunlight danced across the masculine planes of his face, reflected off the lenses of his glasses and the amusement in his eyes. "Flying hundreds of miles to tell someone you got their Christmas present is a major spectacle."

"Well, I didn't fly up _just_ for that. I wanted to give you something, too."

He grinned impishly. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I replied, mocking the innuendo in his voice.

I fished out his note and unfolded it, handing it to him. The _yes_ box underneath his PS had been neatly checked, though we'd already taken care of making out to some extent. I watched his eyes dart over the paper and I wondered if he saw the subtle runs in the blue lines where my tears had fallen. When his eyes met mine, they weren't sparkling with amusement, but something else. Something I didn't have words for. It was something that wrapped around my spine, pulled me closer to him.

"Can I cash this in upstairs?" he asked, voice low.

"What about the bleachers?"

"Yeah, I actually meant to write 'bed,'" he replied, pointing at the note with a grin.

I raised an eyebrow. "I think you meant to write something other than 'making out,' too."

He shook his head, his eyes wide in mock incredulity. "It's like you can read my mind."

I laughed and shivered, only partly because of the cold seeping into my bones. He grabbed my suitcase and we walked inside, the furnace-warmed air slapping at my cheeks. We got to the elevator and immediately he had me pressed against the wall. My arms wrapped around his neck as he kissed my forehead, the bridge of my nose, each corner of my mouth. I closed my eyes at the attention, my skin burning, and my stomach clenched when his mouth covered mine, our tongues meeting slowly, teasingly. My breath left my lungs raggedly as his lips moved further south, leaving a blazing trail of open-mouthed kisses along my jaw, down my throat, right over my pulse point, making it beat out of control.

The elevator bell dinged politely, signaling that we'd reached the fourth floor and Emmett stopped with a sharp sigh. When he pulled back, his bottom lip stuck out petulantly, I raised an eyebrow.

"We're almost to your apartment and the bed," I reminded him, watching as he hauled my suitcase out of the elevator and down the hall lined with dark wood doors. I could hear the muffled noise from someone's television, but other than that it was quiet. "Don't look so put out."

"Speaking of putting out…" He grinned at me over his shoulder and I rolled my eyes, though I was aching for him. I felt the need everywhere – in the tips of my fingers, low in my stomach, pulsing in my chest. It seemed like it had been months, not weeks, since we'd seen each other and I just wanted to be close to him. We had the next four days together, but it didn't take away any of the desperation.

We got to his apartment and he reached around me to open the front door. I stepped inside with him right behind me, his hand on my hip, and let my gaze roam over his space. The kitchen was directly to my right, decked out in dark wood with marble countertops. A stack of mail and a set of keys sat on the breakfast bar next to a few apples. Beyond the kitchen was the living room, which held a leather couch and an oversized armchair, along with a coffee table that had several magazines scattered across it and a tall, thin bookcase. A huge flat-screen TV was mounted on the opposite wall and a sliding glass door led to the balcony. There was a short hallway that I assumed ran back to his bedroom and bathroom. It was warm in here, and not just in temperature. I felt lived in, comfortable.

Emmett's fingers brushed against my neck just before he pulled the jacket from my shoulders. It fell to the ground with a soft thump and I felt his breath at my ear and the front of his body pressing against the back of mine. He ran his hands up my sides, taking the hem of my shirt with it, and his palms skimmed the dip in my waist.

"God, I missed you," he murmured, his voice naked and raw with emotion. "I can't believe you're here right now."

I turned around and met his gaze, intense and fixed on me. "Do I need to prove it to you?"

"I think you should." He shot me a soft smirk. "Just so I'm sure."

We met in the middle, warm mouths and hot breath and cold hands that confirmed that yes, we were here and this was real and then my legs were around his waist and he was carrying me back to his bedroom.

The edge of the bed found us and he sat unceremoniously, cradling my body against his. His hands moved up to wind in my hair, tilting my head to gain better access and I whimpered into his mouth, curling my fingers into his back.

"Can we - " I stopped breathlessly, barely able to verbalize what I wanted as I tugged impatiently at his sweatshirt. "Take all this off."

"Stand up for a second," he said, pushing me semi-gently off his lap. I stood between his legs, his knees pressing against my thighs. I pulled my shirt over my head while he fumbled with the button of my jeans, sliding them over my hips and down my legs. I kicked them away impatiently and got rid of his sweatshirt, too, watching the muscles in his stomach contract with his short breaths. His mouth stretched into a smile as his eyes swept over me, stopping at my breasts. "You took the present thing literally, huh? You even have bows."

I looked down at the pale pink bows at the base of my bra straps and shook my head with a smile. "It's a happy coincidence."

His eyes met mine, dark and wanting. "Can I unwrap you now?"

"If you stop with the present metaphor, then god, yes."

He laughed as he unhooked my bra. It fell to the floor and his gaze dropped, his lips parting in a low curse. He watched the path his hands made over my body, moving over my breasts, thumbs grazing over my nipples, and down the curve of my waist. His fingers traced down my stomach, which was a little soft thanks to the gluttony of the holidays, but he sighed contentedly, pressing into my skin. And then his hands were lightly gripping my hips, his thumbs moving over the gentle protrusion of my hipbones and down each side of my abdomen. I shivered at the way his eyes focused and took in every centimeter of skin he touched, how his eyelashes dusted the delicate hollow just below his heavy-lidded eyes every time they closed, at his full bottom lip caught between his teeth.

I was torn. I wanted to lower myself onto his lap and take that bottom lip into my mouth, to feel his skin against mine. But I loved watching him watch me. I loved seeing how much he wanted me.

"Rosalie," he murmured, his hands reverent, memorizing, exploring. His fingertips claimed every inch of skin they touched.

My hands snaked into his hair just as he leaned into me. His lips ghosted over the trembling skin right above my heart, over my stomach and he moved down, down, down until he reached the top of my underwear. His nose grazed my skin there, his warm breath fanning across my stomach. I bit my lip to keep quiet, but he was shooting electricity through the fingers wandering around to cup my behind and I felt like I was made up completely of exposed nerve endings that were setting me on fire from the inside out. I couldn't help the low moan that escaped.

"God, you're so…" he said hoarsely, his gaze darting everywhere before finally settling on my face. They traced my mouth, swept over my nose and cheekbones and finally locked with my eyes. He squeezed gently, his hands hot against my bare skin, and his mouth melted into a wicked smile. "_Cold_."

"I know how you could warm me up." I let my hands drift from his hair down either side of his face. He leaned into my touch and left a kiss on one of my palms. His fingers wrapped around my wrist and an arm snaked around my waist and suddenly I was on my back on the bed and he was on top of me, his dimples flashing and deepening.

"Are we back to the lame pick up lines, Hale?" he asked, pinning one hand above my head.

"Just take off your shorts," I huffed out, mostly in exasperation, but also because he was rocking against me, teasing me. My hips moved off the bed to meet his instinctively.

"Oh, I like that one. Very effective." I rolled my eyes and he shifted as my fingers hooked around the waistband of his shorts. I tried to yank them down with my free hand but it was nearly impossible and he laughed when I growled out my frustration, his forehead pressed against mine. He shimmied his hips so that I got them over his ass and then he took care of the rest. They joined my bra on the ground and my underwear followed immediately after.

I watched, shamelessly drinking in the muscular planes of his body, as he reached into his nightstand drawer to grab a condom. My heart was racing, beating hard, waiting for him and when he was done, he looked down at me, sitting back on his heels. His hair was everywhere, his cheeks flushed, his eyes sharp with need but soft, too, and I could almost feel the words he wasn't saying.

He'd been so patient with me, carried me through the hardest parts of that week in September, had been a friend to me for the past ten years and so much more for the past three and a half months. He'd given me so much and I wanted to give this to him. I wanted to show him everything, every hidden part of me, because I hadn't given that to anyone else.

He pressed against me and then rolled onto his back, bringing me with him. "I want to see you," he murmured, voice both supple and rough. I placed my hands on his chest, his heart pounding against my palm, hovering over him.

"I love you." And I let him see it, everything I felt for him, how much this meant to me, how much it meant for us.

His sigh was slow, an exhalation of relief. One hand went to the back of my neck to bring my lips to his briefly, the other gripping my hip, gently pushing me until I was right there and he was, too.

I realized I was trembling, or maybe it was him. I couldn't tell but our bodies were melded together anyway, extensions of one another, so I wasn't sure it mattered. He looked up at me and I could see it in his eyes, could see the words even before he said them. They burrowed into my skin when he did. "I love you, Rose."

"You do?" I whispered teasingly, smiling against his lips, though my voice was tremulous.

I expected him to tease back, but he just nodded and kissed me and I was glad I wasn't standing, because my knees went weak at the conviction he put behind it. "So much."

I sank onto him and we groaned together, our sounds echoing in the quiet room. His hands helped me set the pace, slow and deep, and his eyes closed and then opened, like he didn't want to miss anything. I bowed my head, fingers pressing into his hot skin.

"I want to see you, baby," he said again, his voice edged with insistence and need and I let out a distracted hum, overwhelmed by how we were moving together. "C'mere."

He grasped my chin so that our gazes locked and then placed his palm against my face. The way he was looking at me was so intense, but it kept me grounded. He was completely open to me, vulnerable and perfect and mine, and so I gave him that, too, let him see all of me.

Our mouths met and drifted, nipped and whispered and I said the words again, gasped them out with him.

I didn't last long once our rhythm turned erratic, consuming. Soon I was shuddering over him and then he was gone, too, my name tumbling out of his mouth. We lay there, silent and breathless, our skin sticky, hearts slowing. His arms tightened around my waist and I nuzzled my nose into his neck.

After a few quiet minutes, my fingers found his hair and I ran my nails along his scalp lazily. He shivered and I smiled against his skin before propping my chin on his chest. His eyes were closed and he was grinning sleepily. I had a feeling we'd be in this bed all day. I couldn't think of a better way to spend it.

"What's the best Christmas present you've ever gotten?" Emmett asked out of nowhere. I blinked at him and he opened his eyes, gazing at me expectantly.

"Uh, well, you kind of set the gold standard with the letterman jacket, McCarty."

He gave me the full force of his dimples and I wondered if he could feel my heart skip in my chest. "So you liked it, then?"

"It's the reason I'm here," I replied. He touched my cheek with the back of his hand and I leaned into it, kissing his knuckles.

"Damn, I'm a genius," he sighed.

"And modest."

"And good-looking."

"Gorgeous," I agreed. He waggled his eyebrows and I laughed, scooting up his body so I could kiss the scar underneath his chin. "So anyway, good luck beating that next year."

He grinned. "You forget that I love a challenge. I have a whole year to think of something."

"Mmhmm. Your turn," I said, rolling off of him and onto my back. He shifted onto his side, propping himself up with an elbow. "What's the best Christmas present you've gotten?"

He pursed his lips and looked down at me thoughtfully. I stilled under his gaze, watching his eyes sweep over mine, over my mouth and throat and lower before he found me again and I sighed. "I don't think you showing up in my letterman jacket can be topped." He paused and an impish smile bloomed on his face. "Even if you weren't naked."

"You still got me there," I pointed out.

He leaned over me, his arm winding around my waist, and his mouth found my ear. I smiled up at the ceiling when he said, "I've got you, period."

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**A/N: Hi, all. This chapter is a little shorter than I normally churn out (at 5,000 words. I realize how ridiculous that is), but I ended up needing to split this one into two. That said, next chapter will most likely still be the last, unless I get verbose again. Just a few things left to wrap up. **

**Hmonster4 always helps me make everything better. LightStarDusting and AccioBourbon pre-read and gave me advice and love. I'm really lucky to have them all. **

**I'm halfway through the next chapter, but I won't give you a timeline because I never make it and you're all probably tired of me lying to you. :) RL is crazy for me right now, but I am working hard to get the rest out in a timely fashion if at all possible. Thank you guys so much for your kind words, alerts and favorites. You have no idea how much it means, truly. Special thanks to katbug86 and My Precious Fandom for her rec of this story!  
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	24. Ch 23: First Day of My Life

**I'm making like a mullet and doing business up front, party in the back. I'll try and prevent this last A/N from becoming its own novel. Bear with me. :) **

**H: I owe you too many thank yous to count. I wish I could create a chart (or a PowerPoint presentation!) that showed exactly how much you've done for and with this story. I wouldn't have been able to start it, continue it and especially finish it without you. You've been an amazing beta/partner in crime and and an even better friend. ILY.  
**

**LightStarDusting: Thank you for putting up with my "really? It's okay?"s, for pre-reading every chapter and leaving me love notes, for making EV posts and inviting discussion for this story. **** As the Golden Girls would say, thank you for being a friend. ILY. **

**AccioBourbon and LoreliD provided encouragement, pre-reading, WCs and endless support throughout this entire process. Thank you both so much for everything. LillyBellis and MojitoMaven pre-read this last chapter and gave me the thumbs-up/words of encouragement. I've been crazy lucky to have such awesome people in my corner. They're all amazing writers and women and I'm grateful beyond words.  
**

**To everyone who has read, reviewed, alerted, favorited...all I can say is thank you, thank you, thank you. You made this whole process fun and rewarding and I appreciate all of you so much. I'm still convinced that I have the loveliest people reading this story and you've proven that to me time and time again. **

**A couple of things: Hmonster4, AccioBourbon and I are sponsoring Debunking The Myth: 30 Days of Emmett, a compilation of Em-centric drabbles and one-shots that will be posted twice a day for a month starting November 14. There are some amazing authors writing our favorite guy, which is so exciting. Make sure you subscribe to the C2, which can be found here: fanfiction (dot) net/u/2582208.  
**

**I have a few things coming down the pipeline, including an Emmett/Rosalie novella with Hmonster4 (which we're stoked about) and an outtake for this story. If you're so inclined, put me on author alert! **

**It's been a wild ride, you guys, and all I can say (again) is thank you, from every little corner of my heart. **

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It took me a long time to understand what home was.

I always thought it was painted numbers on a curb. I thought it was four walls, a roof, an address on a street in a town that was as familiar to me as my own heartbeat. I felt safe there, protected. I'd play in the front yard, climbing trees with Edward and playing make-believe with Alice, then settle into bed at night with a bedtime story and my mom. I knew this place was mine, that this was where I belonged. I'd always equated that with the house itself.

But as I got older, that same feeling would crop up outside the patch of land my parents owned on Hidden Creek Lane. I often felt it walking in the front door of Edward's house, and Alice's, too. I felt it when we'd all sneak out late at night and stare up at the sky, talking about school and the future and growing up. It'd expand in my chest when I'd hear my parents' low voices and laughter late at night, long after they'd sent me to bed. It was the smell of rain-soaked pine trees. It was laughter and inside jokes shared between friends, football games and scrawled notes from Alice. It was a new city, a skyline of tall buildings and new experiences, of fear and anticipation, a life that I had molded on my own.

I'd never been able to define it, though, to fully grasp what that feeling living inside of me was.

Not too long ago, it had been buried, lost underneath pain and anger, resentment. Though I hadn't always acknowledged it when it was present, I felt its absence intensely. It wasn't until I'd gone back to place it had all begun that I understood it had never left me. I'd just needed to rediscover it.

And I had. The sensation had wrapped itself around me again once I'd let it in. I felt it everywhere again, in quiet (and drunken) moments with Alice, during heart-to-hearts with Jasper and when he called me Barb. I'd felt it with Edward sitting on the curb of my old house, finding our initials carved in the cement. God, and I always felt it with Emmett, every time his name popped up on the caller ID on my phone, whenever I heard his voice and his laugh. He reminded me of what it meant to belong somewhere. All I had to do was hear him, see him, touch him and I felt that intangible something, the name of which had eluded me until now.

Home.

I'd come to realize that home wasn't always a place. It was a feeling, a sense of belonging, of safety and comfort and of just feeling _right_. It was moments and memories and the people you shared them with. That was the foundation. It was where I always wanted to be.

These past two days, home had been waking up in the middle of the night with Emmett's warm, solid weight next to me, his hand on my hip or low on my stomach. It was the warm crook between his neck and shoulder, sushi restaurants and chopstick contests, movies that went unwatched because we were too busy watching one another, the sound of rain against the windows and the smell of it when the sun decided to peek through the clouds and warm the wet pavement.

And right now, it was the sound of Emmett's snoring.

I peeled open one eye, my deep inhale echoing in the otherwise silent room. The window was barely cracked open and it was quiet outside, a peaceful start to what was essentially the biggest party night of the year. I was sprawled out on my side, arms and legs tangled in the sheets. Emmett was on his stomach, one leg hitched toward me, his face mashed into his pillow.

We'd been out late the night before, celebrating Alice and Jasper's engagement with them at a bar down the street. They'd called me just as Emmett and I returned from dinner (I gloated endlessly about being their first call for the rest of the night). I'd curled up with him on the couch while Alice told me how she'd nearly choked on her steak when Jasper bent down on one knee in front of her in their dining room. She said that it had all been a blur after he pulled the ring from his pocket. She didn't remember anything he said other than that he loved her and that he hoped she wanted to be his wife as much as he wanted to be her husband. But that was enough. That was all he'd had to say. In truth, he probably could have just shown her the ring without any words at all and she would've said yes. I knew she'd been waiting for this for so long.

When I started getting tearful, Emmett pulled me onto his lap and wiped at my eyes. He'd teased me affectionately before telling Alice to put Jasper on the phone, and then focused on throwing corny ball and chain jokes at his best friend.

It took them nearly ten minutes to realize that Emmett and I were sharing a phone and then a minute more of them talking over one another to understand exactly how I'd gotten here. Once they did, they insisted on meeting up for a drink, which inevitably turned into "okay, just one more and then we'll go" until the bar was shutting down. Bella and Edward had been at the receiving end of a drunk-dial somewhere around one in the morning and I hazily recalled them agreeing to drive into the city so that we could all spend New Year's Eve at Alice and Jasper's. It had been years since we'd all been together for it and I'd felt that all-too-familiar feeling settling over me. It had been made stronger by Emmett's finger trailing absently along the exposed skin between the waistband of my jeans and the hem of my shirt while he and Jasper talked.

Alice and Jasper didn't make a big deal out of our unofficial unveiling as a couple, but I caught them watching Emmett and I throughout the night. At one point, Alice had grabbed my hand under the table, the metal of her sparkling ring cold against my skin. She'd thrown me a knowing smile, radiating contentment. It had been a silent confirmation that they'd all seen what had been happening between Emmett and me, however close-mouthed we'd been about it while it was still tentative, and that they reveled in the happiness we'd finally found with one another. The realization had made my heart swell, a beautiful ache against my chest.

When we'd finally dragged ourselves back to Emmett's apartment, it was after two in the morning and we were drunk and handsy, laughing and clumsy until we got to his bed and then we were breathless, burning. I discovered that home was also that thing he did with his mouth, the way his hand curved around my hip like it was made to go there, how he told me how much he wanted me, needed me, loved me, and then showed me when telling wasn't enough.

Sleep had come much later, which was probably why I felt like I'd been run over by a Mack truck now. It had been well worth it, though.

My lips curled up into a grin as I watched him sleep. He was irresistible; his skin golden against gray flannel sheets, jaw shadowed with stubble, his lips slightly pursed and puffed out.

His eyes fluttered open, a flash of aquamarine, and then closed almost immediately. "Why are you staring at me like a creep?" he croaked out.

"'Cause you're so pretty."

He squinted an eye open, looking both amused and grumpy, and his lips spread into a reluctant grin. "I love your sarcasm first thing in the morning."

"Hey, this could be your future," I replied, running a hand down my side. He followed the movement before drawing his gaze back up my body slowly and the grin turned from begrudging to heart stopping.

"_Could_ be, huh?"

I arched an eyebrow. "Only if you're very, very good."

"Funny, I think you used those exact words last night. You definitely used good." He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at me, his eyes narrowed thoughtfully, head tilted. His hair was absolutely everywhere. Were it not for the fact that neither of us had brushed out teeth yet, our conversation would've ceased before it began. "Or was it _so_ good?"

"Well, I was drunk. My expectations lower significantly while intoxicated."

"Maybe I _don't_ like your sarcasm first thing in the morning," he grumbled.

I rolled my eyes and twisted my finger around a wayward curl. "You know I'm teasing, McCarty."

"Don't tease a man with morning breath, Hale. I have ways to get back at you."

I wrinkled my nose, pulling the sheet up as a shield, and he let out a close-mouthed laugh. I pressed my finger to his lips and he kissed it, then wound his arm around my waist, burying his face against my neck. My body curled into his instinctively. I swore there was a magnet at the back of my spine and his, the way we drew together. He pushed his hands underneath the t-shirt I'd stolen from him to sleep in and pressed them against the small of my back, just one of the hundreds of places they belonged. There was no space between us, no room for anything but skin and muscle and hearts matching pace.

I closed my eyes with a sigh, drawing nonsensical patterns along the bare skin of his back. "I could get used to waking up with you every morning."

"I think at some point you'll _have_ to get used to it." His voice was muffled against my skin, vibrating into me, and I shivered.

"Yeah?"

"I don't really want to do this long distance thing forever."

"That does sound slightly inconvenient in the long-term," I replied, grinning at the golden sunlight spreading itself slowly across the ceiling. He pressed his smile into my neck, his arms tightening around me like I was going somewhere.

"So, let's get this figured out in the next six months, give ourselves a deadline."

"And why's that?" I wanted it, too, but I liked hearing that he wanted the same things as me. I wanted to know that he needed that light at the end of the tunnel as much as I did, something that would make being away from one another in the meantime slightly less unbearable. My chest was already feeling the phantom ache of missing him, even though he'd be in San Francisco next week. The time after that loomed ominously.

"Well, when two people love each other and want to be together, they usually try not to live in different states," he began with exaggerated patience, peeling his body away from mine and propping himself up on his elbow again. He gazed down at me, smiling with twinkling eyes and deep dimples and creases from the sheets running across his chest.

"Smart ass," I said, pinching his arm. He grinned impishly before the corners of his mouth drifted into something quieter, more thoughtful.

"But mostly because I've waited for this for a long time." His voice dipped low. "I don't want to wait anymore."

All of the air flowed out of my lungs in one long, slow sigh, and I sat up, facing him. Our knees pressed together and he laid his hands on my thighs, his thumbs making slow circuits along my skin. "How long?" I asked, my voice equally low. The moment felt intimate, fragile, and I didn't want to break it.

He squinted up at the ceiling, his lips moving silently as if calculating the amount of time. "Well, I've _wanted_ you since I saw you and those cut-off shorts of yours coming down the hall the first day of school." He shot me a grin, his fingers making a teasing sweep along my inner thighs. "I'm a leg man."

I laughed and put my hands over his, remembering my first day of freshman year, the way my heart had skipped a beat when I passed by him and our eyes met. It hadn't been more than two seconds, but it had been enough to plant the spark that had flickered somewhere deep inside of me, just waiting to be ignited.

"And then sometime after that I just…I don't know, I fell in love with you. It's been years." He shot me a wry grin. "You made it too easy, and also really damn impossible to find a girl who could measure up to you."

His words tugged at my brain and I suddenly recalled his evasiveness about his love life, the way he'd dodged my questions about Tanya during that game of truth or dare. "Was that the reason you broke it off with Tanya?"

"You called me a couple days before I did it," he replied with a slow nod. I wove my fingers through his to connect us, needing to be close. My head was swimming, overwhelmed at his admission. I tried to remember the phone call, how it could have spurred such a major decision, but it was lost in the shuffle of the others we used to have. They'd all been short back then, just quick calls to check in or catch up. It felt like a lifetime ago; I couldn't recall what that was like anymore, knowing him in what now seemed like an incredibly small way.

"I don't remember…" I trailed off, flooded with guilt. This had been so pivotal for him and I couldn't dredge up the memory. How was it possible that I'd had such an effect on him, on his life, and I hadn't even known? "What did we talk about?"

"Fuck if I know," he said with a small laugh. "Nothing ground-breaking, but I felt more in that five minutes with you than I had in a month with her and I knew I had to end it. It wasn't fair to her, or me for that matter. We both deserved more."

_More._ I was remembering things he'd said that week in Forks in snippets and I suddenly realized what he meant that night at the park when he'd said he wanted more. I'd misunderstood the entire conversation, had thought that when he'd pulled away from me he was rejecting me, was saying no the possibility of us. Now I knew. He'd been saying that he wanted more _with_ me, that he wanted _all_ of me. I hadn't been ready to see it and he'd known. His frustration with me, his anger at Edward… god, it made so much sense now. It had been right in front of me, but I'd been too distracted, too hurt and angry to see that he'd been standing there all along.

"And what did you tell Edward that night in the park?" I asked, though I already knew. There was only one thing that could have turned him around like that.

"I told him that I'd been in love with you for a long time and that I understood what you were going through. I said that you deserved to have someone love you all the way and not half-ass it. I asked him, as a friend to you _and _me, to straighten his shit out with you so you could let go." He paused, his gaze locking with mine, holding me in place. "Even if it hadn't been me, Rose, I would've wanted you to have all of that."

I let out a long, tremulous breath and his eyes were searching on my face, silently asking me to understand. And I did. I understood that he'd pled my case when I couldn't do it for myself, not knowing for certain that it would end up this way. The thought of that, of the way he loved me even when I didn't – couldn't – see it, took my breath away.

"God, how do you make me love you so much?" I whispered, pressing my fingers against his chest, right over his heart.

"It's a gift," he replied, his dimples flashing as he put his hand over mine.

"It wouldn't have been anyone else, Em. It never could have," I whispered. "I need you to know that."

"I know. Now I know." He grinned and with the upturn of his mouth lifted the heavy blanket of emotion cloaking us. "I think I'm pretty good for you."

"The best."

"Only," he corrected me, eyebrow quirked.

I nodded. "Ever."

I felt a silent shift with that word. I knew, with an assurance that came from somewhere deep inside of me, that in fifty years we'd be waking up in the morning like this. That our kids would have kids and the life we'd made together, lived together, would have been lived well.

He crooked a finger at me and I climbed into his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. His hands snaked underneath my shirt, skimming up bare skin. He ran his nose along my neck, up the juncture where my ear and jaw met, nipping lightly. I shivered under his touch, curving into him to get closer.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," I murmured into his ear, weaving my fingers into the hair at his neck.

"Don't be sorry. You got here," he replied, his voice firm with sincerity. He paused and I nestled closer, reveling in the feeling of him, of warm skin and new mornings. "You were slow as shit about it, but you got here."

I laughed, feeling the slow beat of his pulse against my lips. "You're such a jackass."

"I thought I was a smart ass."

"Fine, I'll simplify and just call you an ass."

"I'm _your _ass, though." His arms tightened around me. I nodded into the crook of his neck.

"I love you, Em," I sighed, meaning it, feeling it in every corner of my body, mind, heart.

"I should hope so after what I just told you."

I rolled my eyes and leaned back so I could look at him. As expected, he was wearing an irritatingly impish smile. "This is actually the part where you tell me you love me, too."

"Oh," he mouthed, eyes widening as his dimples deepened. He affected a solemn expression, though the twitch of his lips ruined it, and put his hand against my neck. "I do love you, Rosalie Hale."

"I love you," I said again and I was sure I'd never get tired of saying it, of seeing the warmth in his eyes when he heard it. "Now let's brush our teeth so we can make out, please."

"Awesome plan," he replied, pushing me off his lap so he could get up. He stretched as he made his way out of the room, slapping his palms on the doorway. I shook my head with a grin and dragged myself out of our comfortable cocoon.

We brushed our teeth with the sides of our bodies pressed together, our eyes locked in the mirror. He pulled faces at me until I was laughing, toothpaste dribbling down my chin. His eyes crinkled when he gave me a wide foamy and I wanted this every day for the rest of my life. I wanted more of these little moments that were just ours to share.

I put my toothbrush in the holder next to his, purple and blue sitting side by side. He pressed me back against the sink and finally, finally his lips were on mine, minty fresh, warm and wanting. I braced one hand behind me and wound the other around his neck. His hands ran up my hips, along the curve of my waist, over my ribs until they were framing my face. He was playful, nipping at my bottom lip with gentle teeth, soothing the spot with the sweep of his tongue, but after everything he'd told me it wasn't enough. So I told him with mouth and hands, with sighs and tongue and touch how much it meant, that I hoped the wait was worth it, and he silently said yes when he pushed closer and his fingers curled into my hair.

"Goddamn," he said breathlessly when we pulled apart. "Good _morning_."

"Good morning." I pressed my smile along his mouth, in the middle of his bottom lip, on each upturned corner, at the cupid's bow of his top. "What should we do today?"

We were expected at Alice and Jasper's sometime after nine, but the rest of the day stretched infinitely, luxuriously in front of us. I almost didn't know what to do with all of the time we had. I was used to hours, not days, but I knew I needed to soak this up because this wouldn't be the norm for us, at least not until we figured everything out.

Emmett shook his head, eyes a little glassy. "I dunno. Can't think. No blood in head right now."

It took another few minutes of distracted discussion punctuated by wandering hands and mouths before we gave up and he carried me back to bed, the sheets still warm from our bodies.

We ate a late breakfast at a café down the street and discussed the details of our deadline. We agreed that we'd both look into relocating and Emmett promised to talk to his boss about a possible transfer to their San Francisco office. If that didn't work out, there were other options for both of us. Talking about being together made it feel so real and my heart pounded through the entire conversation. The ache I felt knowing I'd finally have him for good in mere months was almost physical. After how long it had taken us to get here, I couldn't wait for that next step. I didn't want to.

The thought of leaving San Francisco made my chest twinge a little, though, and I wondered if it was the same for Emmett. The reality of it was that either way one of us would be giving something up – proximity to Alice, Jasper, Edward and Bella in his case, Garrett and Kate in mine, our jobs, our apartments, the daily little things that we'd settled into in our individual lives. But we'd be gaining so much more together. We'd be starting a life that was both of ours, growing it into the kind of love my parents had, one that was permanent, forever. The thought of having that with Emmett made any compromise or sacrifice we had to make separately worth it.

That belief was only strengthened as we drifted through the rest of the day. I felt like I was getting glimpses of what our future would look like. We stopped at the park on the way home from breakfast and I made him push me on the swings. I bent backwards once I got going, my vision a blur of rich blue sky and the brilliant blue-green of his eyes, the white of his smile. He was all bundled up in a black pea coat and a ridiculous knit cap with earflaps and when I came back down to earth, he was right there. I took his hand, freezing cold, but his lips were hot against mine and I imagined other days that would look like this.

Later, we curled up on his couch to watch the bowl games on TV, our legs tangled, me using his arm as a makeshift pillow. We made pizza for dinner and moving around in the kitchen with him was familiar, innate. I caught our reflections in the window and smiled to myself, reminded of the dance my parents had perfected over the years, the way they were always aware of one another, how they moved so reflexively both around and with each other. It was another glimpse, a whisper of the promise of what could be, what _would _be. I could tell by the way he looked at me once we sat down with our plates and drinks – beer for him, wine for me – that he felt it, too.

It was a lazy day full of nothing, but with him it was everything.

Alice called around nine while Emmett was in the shower, belting out made-up lyrics to "Auld Lang Syne" at the top of his lungs. She sounded tipsy, tripping over her words a bit when she said that Edward and Bella had just arrived and we needed to hurry so they could "get the party started."

"It kind of sounds like you already have," I said with a laugh, rifling through my suitcase to find the one nice sweater I packed, a soft gray cashmere v-neck.

"Yeah, I had some – what in the world is that sound?"

"It's Emmett."

There was a confused pause. I could hear laughter in the background and the familiar sound spread warmth through me, a cozy fire. "He sounds like a dying cat."

"I know," I sighed as he reached a crescendo. "He's not normal."

"Listen to you! You're so in love," she replied, her laughter effervescent with bliss and champagne.

"And _you're _a sap," I said, rolling my eyes but unable to keep my smile at bay. "We'll be there soon."

The city was alive with energy as our cab wound toward Alice and Jasper's apartment in Queen Anne. There were people on the street and starting to crowd into bars. The excitement in the air was palpable and Emmett pulled me close, tucking me into his side. He rolled down the windows so he could heckle the people that were already drunk and unsteady on their feet, but it was good-natured and they whooped with him, arms up in the air in celebration. The soft pop of faraway fireworks echoed into the night.

"Do you think we should practice our kiss for midnight?" Emmett asked as soon as we were out of the cab and standing in front of Alice and Jasper's building. I raised an eyebrow and he shrugged, innocent eyes and wicked grin. "I'd hate the mess the real thing up."

"It _is _kind of a big deal," I replied, playing along. "It's our first and all."

"We've got to start the year off right," he agreed, stepping closer.

I tilted my head and smiled up at him. "I think we already are."

He wrapped his hand around my wrist and reeled me in until I was against him, one eyebrow raised. "I think you're right, but humor me."

He was still smiling when our mouths met and I leaned into him, my hands braced against his chest. His lips were lingering on mine, supple and fervent, and I saw brilliant sparks of light behind my eyelids, our own private fireworks. If I thought I'd felt this before, with Edward or anyone else, I was completely mistaken. The fire I'd felt with Edward had always been antagonistic, about frustration and anger. Emmett made it so different, sending a million tiny sparks from his mouth and fingertips zipping through my blood, awakening everything inside of me. I felt alive in an entirely new way.

We were broken apart by catcalls and Emmett's gaze went over my shoulder and up. He flashed a wide, slightly sheepish smile and I knew even before I turned around and saw them on the balcony that Jasper, Alice, Edward and Bella were all out there.

"It's about time you two got here," Alice called with a smile, shooting me a sly, secret look to confirm that she didn't just mean our arrival at their apartment. Emmett's fingers dug teasingly into my side, letting me know he caught her double meaning, too.

"Get your sweet ass up here," Jasper shouted, then pointed to me with his beer bottle. "You, too, Barb."

I rolled my eyes with a laugh. "Charming."

Emmett shook his head and took my hand, waving at them with his free one. "You guys couldn't wait for us to get here before you started in on the booze?"

"Rose isn't exactly known for being punctual. We figured she'd pull you into her black hole of lateness, so we got a bit of a head start," Edward replied, raising his beer to us in greeting. I raised my middle finger in response, smiling sweetly, and he laughed. His arm was around Bella's waist, holding her close. They looked settled, content, the picture of marital bliss. Bella's gaze moved to Emmett's hand encasing mine and her grin widened. Like Alice and Jasper, they didn't make a big deal of it, but I noticed them noticing.

Bella hitched her thumb over her shoulder. "There's still plenty left for you guys. If you hurry, you can get some before Jasper drinks it all."

"Dude, don't single me out. Edward tagged an entire six pack for himself," Jasper said indignantly.

"Dude, because I _brought _it," Edward shot back, shoving him lightly.

"_Dude_, can one of you yahoos buzz us in?" Emmett called, exasperated, and though it was freezing out here and I couldn't really feel my nose, I was warm again.

Alice buzzed us in and we made our way up the stairs to the second floor. Emmett insisted on letting me go first and I realized quickly that it had more to do with him copping a feel than being chivalrous.

"Really?" I said over my shoulder when his hand found the curve of my ass for the fourth time.

"What?" He blinked innocently, even as his fingers dug into my cheek playfully. "I'm _ass_isting you, Hale."

"It's a good thing I love you so much, McCarty," I teased, turning around. He wound his arm around my waist with a grin. With him on the step below me, we were nearly eye-to-eye. I brushed my lips against his and he let out a hum. "Your jokes leave something to be desired."

"Get used to it," he murmured, nipping lightly at my bottom lip. "I've got an endless supply and you're going to hear all of them."

I arched an eyebrow. "Promise?"

"Shit, you _do _love me," he said with a laugh.

We climbed the rest of the stairs and when we turned the corner, they were waiting for us in the hallway, talking loudly and leaning against one another. They let out shouts of celebration when they saw us and swept us up into a tornado of hugging, greetings and laughter. Bella gave me a quick, tight squeeze before moving over to Emmett and though we were creating a dull roar of noise, I clearly heard her say, "I'm so happy for you guys."

I was surprised by the familiarity in her voice and my eyes locked with Emmett's as Edward pulled me into a hug. His smile was wide on me, brilliant and perfect in its contentment. I thought of that night at the Cullens' house when Edward had interrupted Emmett and me. I remembered the brief conversation I'd overheard between Emmett and Bella on the back porch afterward, when she'd asked him if he wanted to say something to him. I hadn't known who she was talking about at the time, but now it was another piece falling into place, the realization that Bella had been talking about Edward, that she'd probably known about Emmett's feelings for me before they'd been confirmed to anyone else. There was a small part of me, instinctive and still deeply ingrained after years of resentment toward her, that felt a twinge in my chest, but it was fleeting. God knew he'd probably needed someone to confide in.

Alice wound her arm around my waist, pulling me out of my thoughts, and we started migrating toward their front door, everyone talking at the same time. That all-too-familiar feeling of belonging wrapped itself around me, surrounded me and I wondered if they felt it, too, that ripple of rightness that moved through us, the invisible thread that had always tied us together.

The feeling stayed with me when we went inside and gathered in the living room. Edward and Bella claimed the loveseat, limbs tangling as they tucked themselves against one another. I dropped down beside Emmett on the couch and Alice curled up next to me, propping her elbow on the armrest. Jasper folded himself onto the floor in front of her, knees pulled up to his chest, and Alice rested her left hand on his shoulder. I noticed the way his fingers moved to absently play with her ring, an unconscious reminder of their promise. I reveled in the way we fell into conversation effortlessly, like it had been four days, not four months since we'd all been together.

Really, though, we hadn't been like this for years, free from the underlying tension that existed between Edward and me. I couldn't remember the last time I was so relaxed, perfectly content with them and so settled within myself. There wasn't anything left unsaid, nothing hidden, no regret or resentment. It was just us, right here, and it was so nice to simply _be _with them. It was another way in which I'd come home.

I sank back into Emmett, my spine curling itself to fit the contours of his side and he wrapped his arm around me, anchoring me against him. I felt the pressure of his lips against my hair and I placed my hand on his leg, my thumb making a circuitous path along the ridge of his kneecap.

Alice's feet eventually found their way onto my lap, like they always did when we used to watch movies stretched out on either end of her couch or mine. She was half-sitting, half-laying across us, playing absently with Jasper's hair while she laughed about something with Bella. The vibration of Emmett's voice against my back, moving through skin and bone and muscle until it was strumming at my veins, softened everything. I only heard the gentle hum of conversation rather than words and I soaked it in, watching everything, everyone.

My gaze moved over Bella, her head nestled against Edward's shoulder, and then moved to him. He had his cheek against her hair and he was smiling, a little hazy, resting his beer bottle against his knee. His eyes went sharper when he caught my eye.

"You good?" he mouthed, his expression curious and at the same time knowing.

My fingers tightened instinctively around Emmett's knee and his chest expanded against my back, pushing out my silent response. "Very. You?"

He grinned that same crooked grin I'd seen countless times and nodded, his gaze slipping back to his wife.

"I remember our past New Year's Eves being a little wilder than this," Bella mused when it got close to midnight, looking down at her watch. "Have we all gone soft?"

"Nah, we've just been domesticated," Alice said, running her hand along Jasper's shoulder.

"You make me sound like a housecat," he replied with a snort, grabbing her hand and pulling her until she was off the couch and in his lap. She laughed and smacked his chest, her cheeks flushed pink from champagne and him.

"Must. Resist. Pussy jokes," Emmett quipped. Jasper raised his middle finger over his shoulder, but I could see the smile on his face.

"So, where are we watching the fireworks?" Edward asked. "Balcony?"

"Roof." Alice pointed toward the ceiling. "We have an unobstructed view of the Space Needle from there, so it'll be perfect."

We untangled ourselves and bundled up in our coats and various winter accessories. Alice shoved a pair of gloves into Bella's hands and a knit hat into mine. Emmett put it on for me, pulling it so low that it was covering my eyes. I adjusted it with a huff and the first thing I saw was his smile, boyish and affectionate. It reminded me of the grin he threw me the first time I saw him and I marveled not for the first or tenth or hundredth time how far we'd come.

I could hear music and laughter as we made our way up the stairs toward the roof. Apparently all of Alice and Jasper's neighbors had the same idea; there were people milling around everywhere, drinking and celebrating. The city was alight all around us, shimmering with anticipation. I felt it in the crisp air, saw it when I looked over to find Emmett watching me, his expression a little pensive.

"Why are you staring at me like a creep?" I teased, facing him.

He brought his hands up to my cheeks, his gaze sweeping from my eyes to my mouth and back again. "Because you're beautiful…" his lips grazed mine, "…and because you're here and I'm glad."

My body buzzed with his touch and his words. "Me, too," I murmured against his mouth.

"Hey, can you two stop making out for a second?" Jasper called from across the roof. Bella, Alice and Edward were nearby and they, along with everyone else within a two-mile radius, turned to see who he was talking to. I threw Jasper an irritated glare and he shrugged sheepishly, then waved at Emmett. "McCarty, I need you."

"_Finally_ you admit it, Whitlock," he called back, rolling his eyes heavenward. He gave my lips a swift kiss and my hat a light tug and then he was off, winking at me over his shoulder.

I watched him snake through the crowd until he reached Jasper and then turned to look out over the city, leaning against the railing that surrounded the perimeter of the roof. The Space Needle stood tall in the distance, just waiting for its moment to shine, and I checked my watch. It wouldn't be much longer.

An arm slung over my shoulder suddenly and I started, looking up into bright green eyes.

"Hey," Edward said with a grin. "Need some company?"

"I suppose you'll do," I teased, bumping his hip with mine. He laughed, squeezing my shoulder, and then released his hold on me.

"So…" he began.

"So?"

"So, you're in Seattle unexpectedly," he prompted, leaning his forearms against the railing next to me.

I looked down at myself, eyes wide with feigned surprise, then back at him. "Shit, how did _that _happen?"

His mouth was pursed and I could tell he was trying not to smile, but one side pulled up anyway. "You're kind of a dick, you know that?"

"Don't make me bust out the 'I'm rubber and you're glue', Cullen. I'm not above it."

"You were never above it, Hale."

I grinned wryly at him and he laughed, shaking his head. Somehow we always fell back into this same back-and-forth, but it felt light now. I didn't feel that same antagonistic pull that had always caused friction between us. And maybe it was because there were no secrets now, no hurt feelings and expectations that couldn't be filled. I suspected, though, that it was more that we'd grown up and moved on. Our lives were different now. _We_ were different now.

"Listen," he said and I looked over at him, one eyebrow arched. "I know this hasn't really ever been our thing, talking about relationships and love or whatever." My other brow went up, this time in surprise, and he gave me a knowing look. "But you're one of my best friends, Rose, and so is Emmett and I just wanted to say that it's…I don't know, it's pretty damn amazing to see how happy you make each other. And for what it's worth, I'm sorry if anything I said or did or _didn't_ do slowed you down in getting to where you are with Em."

I shook my head, looking out at the city lights twinkling around us. "Well, I appreciate that, but I think I slowed myself down."

"You're here now, though," he said, nudging me with his shoulder.

"I am," I confirmed with a small laugh.

"And on New Year's, too. It's like a new beginning."

A slow smile bloomed on my face and I looked over at him, nodding. "I think that's exactly what it is."

I thought of this past year, of the pain I'd gone through nearly losing my mom, feeling like I'd lost my friends, sure that I'd drifted too far from the place I belonged to ever find my way back. I thought of all the years I spent focused on Edward, positive that he was the answer. And though it made my heart twist, I thought of the additional time Emmett and I could have had if I'd done things differently, if I'd let go of Edward sooner or if Emmett had told me how he felt earlier. But life was ambiguous. There was no road map to steer you down a straight path. You made your choices and hoped for the best and I'd come to find that eventually it would take you to the place you needed to be. It would lead you home.

And so maybe I'd learned the hard way, had taken the long way, but I was here now. In the end, that was what mattered.

"Should we meet back up with the herd?" Edward asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

I glanced at my watch and nodded. "It's almost midnight."

Emmett and Jasper reached Alice and Bella at the same time Edward and I did, Emmett carrying a champagne bottle and Jasper juggling a stack of plastic cups. Edward slipped between Alice and Bella, wrapping his arm around his wife's waist and dropping a kiss on her head. I latched onto Emmett's coat, pulling him close, and he handed me the bottle with a grin.

"You do the honors, babe."

As New Year's tradition had dictated between the six of us for years, I unwrapped and uncorked the champagne before handing the bottle off to Bella. Alice held her hand out for the cork and I tossed it to her. She pocketed it with a smile and I knew I would go into the box she kept for the others we'd popped over the years, the little memories of all the times we'd had a reason to toast before, to aced test and graduations, to new years and old friends.

Jasper passed cups around and Bella poured the bubbling drink, then set the bottle on the ground. We lifted our glasses, instinctively turning our attention to Jasper.

Edward gestured down to the bottle with an appreciative nod. "Veuve, huh?"

"Yeah, I bought it off one of the neighbors," Jasper replied, waving absently over his shoulder.

"He was supposed to get the champagne for our toast, but he spaced it," Alice added, nestling against his side, her arms wrapped around his waist. "Nice save, honey."

"Hey, I got that Veuve below-market, woman. It worked out."

Bella held up her cup, the bubbles zipping to the top, looking like miniature shooting stars in the moonlight. "Well, it's definitely a nice step up from the Andre we used to get."

"Yeah, we actually have standards now," Emmett said, shuddering.

"I think it's more that we're not broke college students now," I corrected him.

"Regardless," Jasper said, lifting his glass. "We've got the good stuff and we've got a lot to celebrate tonight, my friends."

"Do tell, toastmaster," Bella intoned with a grin.

"Newly engaged," he replied, pointing to him and Alice. He turned to Bella and Edward. "Newly married." His gaze landed on me and Emmett and he gestured to us. "About damn time."

I rolled my eyes, but Emmett raised his cup in acknowledgement as everyone laughed, a smile playing on his lips.

"So, in the spirit of these momentous things," Jasper continued, throwing me a wink, "here's to us."

We all raised our glasses, our voices ringing out when we said "to us," but my eyes were locked with Emmett's. I was saying it to him. His gaze stayed on me as he drained his glass, when he set it down and wrapped his fingers around my wrist. His eyes didn't leave my face, not when he pulled my body flush with his or when more voices rang out in the night, this time to begin the countdown to midnight. There were ten seconds left in the year, but time disappeared. Everything did.

"I think we're about to put our practice kiss to shame," I told his mouth, snaking my hands inside his coat. He smiled, ducking his head until our lips were an inch apart, separated only by cold air and anticipation.

"Is that a promise?" he asked, his arm going around my waist. His hand found the curve there and settled in, pulling me closer still. He brought his other hand to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, ready to bring me in when it was time.

My eyes fluttered closed as his mouth grazed mine. It wasn't a kiss, just the promise of one, and a shiver danced down my spine. "Guess you'll have to wait and see."

When I opened my eyes, he was looking at me, his lips curving into a grin as he shook his head. There was a sudden, raucous cheer and a cacophony of "Happy New Year's" and I felt more than heard his response. "No more waiting."

The sky exploded above us, but it was nothing compared to what happened when Emmett's lips met mine. His touch was fireworks, his mouth delicious anticipation realized, his body and hands and heart hope and a new beginning, and I suddenly understood exactly what New Year's meant because it all existed in this kiss. It didn't escape me, as I pushed myself closer to him, that this New Year was starting with him. There would be countless more moments just like this, kissing underneath a sky sparking brightly, and I knew it would always be this good. It would always feel like home.


End file.
